


2020 - A Catastrophic Set of Bureaucratic Dates

by Ira_Dunfort



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bickering, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Florida Man - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Real Events, Natural Disasters, Politics, She/Her Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Soft Bureaucracy, Swearing, This Has Plot Now, but only mentioned, puns, review of the catastrophe that is 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 25,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ira_Dunfort/pseuds/Ira_Dunfort
Summary: This series will serve two purposes: 1) a review of the year 2020 as we all could use some answers and closure. 2) it is a getting together story which culminates in a Christmas setting with domestic and soft dumbassery.There will be 24 chapters, two for each month of the year, alternating between what happened during work and their leisure time.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 72





	1. January - Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it’s been a minute. As I’ve already explained on my [tumblr](https://ira-dunfort.tumblr.com/post/635875475052429312/im-back-and-so-is-soft-bureaucracy-for-the), I’ve been on an unexpected but welcome hiatus. The result of said hiatus is called Viktoria and she’s now almost six weeks old. The pregnancy brain fog has finally cleared, we’re all settled in, and thus I can write again! 
> 
> Depending on how much time the baby girl demands chapters will be shorter or longer.

  


### 

◈◇◇◇◇◇ JANUARY - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**2nd of January 2020:** Due to the catastrophic bushfire season in Australia, colloquially known as the Black Summer, New South Wales Premier Gladys Berejiklian declares a state of emergency.

"I can't believe She actually gave him Australia." Gabriel said, pushing a sweaty strand of hair back from his shining forehead as he stood uncomfortably close to the fires ravaging the local flora and fauna.

"Well, the world didn't end." The demon prince beside him answered. 

"What kind of reasoning is that?" he snapped, shuffling a step back. Even though Lucifer had started the fires, they weren't the Hell-kind. Still, they made the Archangel rather anxious with every bit it crept closer to him across the charred clearing. He just couldn't _trust_ fire anymore.

"As good as any these days." Beelzebub said without looking at him as she was busy roasting small sausages she had put on a skewer. A skewer that was starting to glow from the force of the fire, but Beelzebub held it completely unperturbed. "At least Lucifer and Her are talking again."

There it was again, that unnerved twitch to the side of Gabriel's mouth at the mention of the rather significant change of order that had happened over the past months after the botched Armageddon. Heaven and Hell in open communication, negotiating, figuring out how to co-exist since total destruction of one side was off the table - possibly for eternity - thanks to Adam and his wayward self-proclaimed guardians. 

He switched from his right foot onto his left, leaning away from a bush that was getting licked up by flames. "Ignoring each other had worked just fine for millennia." 

"Did it, though?" Beelzebub asked with a cocked brow, pinning him with a sceptical glare this time.

Gabriel rolled his purple eyes but bit his tongue, a valued skill of self-restraint he only had trained himself to use in the company of the Lord of Flies. He honestly did not want to alienate her too much. Who'd have thought he'd bend for anyone but God. Not that he had to bend for Her, She had made him precisely the way She needed him. 

However, Beelzebub, with her, it was something very different, and he was getting curious about _that_. Yes, she'd call him names and out on his bullshit, but somehow he was enjoying it. Always had, yet, as they are being teamed up every now and then to monitor major catastrophes she was starting to grow on him even more.

"Look, my King Lucifer wanted to burn the entire planet down, as you know. Not just to win the war, more like a necessary purge. Start and guide humanity from _almost_ scratch once he's done."

"Like we did with Noah, but fire instead of rain?"

"Kinda," Beelzebub answered and pulled a steaming hot sausage from her skewer and took a bite. "And now, thank God, my King at least gets to play a little with Australia."

"Such arrogance." Gabriel said with furrowed brows. 

The demon first only snorted but quickly broke into bubbly laughter. "You're one to talk."

They fell into silence for a while, partially because Beelzebub was snacking, and partially because Gabriel did not quite know what the sound of Beelzebub's laughter just did to him and if he were obligated to report it, even if only to his private documentation for later reflection. 

"Did you know," her casual disinterested buzz turned slightly timid, her eyes flicking between her food and the angel at her side, "Did you know that the measurements of Nuremberg sausages were determined by the size of the castle gate's keyhole so guards could smuggle in food?"

Gabriel blinked a few times, taken aback by the random tidbit of information. "What's the point?"

"Pointless, just like this meeting." She said with a sigh. _So much for small talk._ "Honestly, 'Keep an eye on the fires, so they don't spread too far.' Have they all forgotten that Australia is entirely surrounded by water?" She gestured to the distance blocked by thick black smoke. "This problem will solve itself, this is a waste of time." She was clearly getting frustrated and threw her remaining sausages into the flames. "Why are we still here? Why are _you_ still here, Messenger?"

"Maybe I like to spend time with you." Gabriel said with a shrug, the words slipping off his tongue only being realised as he spoke them.

The demon crossed her arms. "Yeah, right."

One sole of her boots was starting to melt, but her face didn't perspire, her hair wasn't matted but shimmering in the light of the flames like glowing, live coals. her flies were orbiting a charred and dead animal that _still was on fire_. To be honest, Gabriel found it incredibly annoying that the fire didn't affect her at all. Stupid demons.

But still.

"Cute dress by the way, Bee."

That disrespectful nickname again! She was a fucking Prince of Hell! Beelzebub took a long and scrutinising look at Gabriel. She watched how pearls of sweat were rolling down his stupidly toned arms, left bare in the athletic and drenched white tank top he had paired with perfectly ironed grey short suit pants. The heat she felt in her cheeks clearly must have been caused by the unrelenting flames after all, and she probably should kick the angel into the fire for being an unprofessional and irritating wankwing as usual.

But _still_.

"Thanks."


	2. January - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has a stupid idea and _runs_ with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the idea for a fic based on this chapter months ago, and now it all shall be combined with an advent calendar.

  


### 

◆◇◇◇◇◇ JANUARY - LEISURE ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**26th of January 2020:** Archangel Gabriel and Prince of Hell Beelzebub have been provided with the monthly summary of the surveillance concerning the rogue agents. 

"They could have done better." Gabriel remarked and scrunched his disgustingly handsome face at the collection of photographs and sketches of Aziraphale and Crowley's cottage. 

"I agree." Beelzebub admitted. Gabriel wasn't wrong, honestly. 

He cocked a brow at the demon, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "You do?" Judging by the, uhm, _decor_ of Hell, he'd thought she'd like the cottage Aziraphale and Crowley had purchased just the way it is. He should have known better and based his guess on the way she dressed on Earth, as it seemed. 

"Just look at the place." Beelzebub said, gesturing at the file spread out over the restaurant's dinner table with her glossy black manicured fingers. "The entire property is in shambles. The uneven, tumbling garden wall, the dried and dead vines on the cottage side, small and broken windows--"

"The scrawny apple tree, the crooked roof." Gabriel cut in and continued for her, and she didn't mind. 

"It's so… quaint." The demon Prince pointed out, with her cute nose wrinkling and making Gabriel smile in return. 

"A demon and an angel living together, choosing a permanent shared residence on Earth, and they decide on this derelict, ramshackle hut in the hinterlands." The Messenger rolled his eyes, but - oh please no - there was a hint of mischief in his voice. "I'd have picked something more modern."

"Of course you'd have." Beelzebub clicked her tongue. "At least something with better isolation." she added, thinking of her damp and always a little too cold quarters of Hell. 

"With a less messy garden and a spacious sundeck." Gabriel dropped a picture of overgrown, gangly bushes back onto the table.

Beelzebub grinned at him. "To sunbathe, you big bird?"

"Yes, after I get out of the pool." 

The picture of Gabriel doing just that, getting out of a small garden swimming pool and shaking his six wings to dry popped into the demon's mind.

Her face gave something away, judging by Gabriel's satisfied smirk. It was _that moment_ that the angel decided that he'd play with fire. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and there was no problem he couldn't talk his way out of, self-made or not. "The sundeck could have a stone grill."

"Hmm." Where was the angel going with this? The grill was clearly mentioned as bait--

Gabriel leaned a little closer across the table. "Admit it, we'd create a much better home together." 

"Gabriel." Beelzebub's said warningly. 

"You know it's true. We both have much better taste. I really like your coat today, by the way." He was obviously fishing for a compliment in return. While he genuinely looked stunning in his graphite suit with a lavender shirt, no tie but the two top buttons open, she'd only admit he was right and therefore encourage the angel.

He had to be pulling her leg. So she decided to play his game and start pulling his, teach him a lesson and put out-of-reach ideas into his own mind.

She crossed her arms with a small but confident smile on her lips. "You vain wanker would insist on wasting an entire room to use it as a walk-in closet."

"Oh, absolutely." He laughed, but then his voice dipped into something deeper. "And it'd be adjacent to a bedroom with a metal frame four-poster bed hung with dark red velvet curtains."

Playing along, just the first quip, had already backfired on her. The image was in her head, and fuck, the possibility of not sleeping in a dingy bunk bed for once? A big and warm and comfortable bed? What a _temptation_.

"You don't even sleep."

"But you do," He had the audacity to bat his pretty eyes at her, "and red isn't my colour."

"Gabriel. Stop."

"Since I don't sleep you could decorate the bedroom however you want, Bee." 

That pet name again? When did he even start using it? It must have been a while already. "Gabriel."

Ignoring the third warning, Gabriel continued. "An open kitchen joined with the living room."

_Fuck it. Let's fight fire with hellfire._

"An indoor gym, treadmill at a floor to ceiling window overlooking the garden."

"Where you could plant every black flower known to mankind and --"

"And something purple for you as well." His face turned soft as another smile tugged on his lips. 

"How about a compost for your flies?" Gabriel said in a velvety tone, eyes sparkling. 

Fuck, what was happening here? Several emotions flickered over her face in a brief moment. Surprise, vulnerability, a glance of happiness. Something painfully close to hope.

"Bee?" The angel asked after she didn't respond for a few seconds. Did he go too far?

"I'm leaving." She announced, grabbed her copy of the file, and got up. 

_Well, too late to back down now._ "To go pick curtains?"

"Fuck off." She said on her way out, showing him the finger over her shoulder. At least he didn't see the blush that had snuck into her face.

"See you soon, Bee." Gabriel all but sing-songed.

It was surely all meant as a joke. Nonetheless, Beelzebub could not shake the idea that, yes, they'd be able to create a nice home together. 

The traitors had known each other for millennia, but so did Gabriel and Beelzebub, who also had the advantage of negotiating with each other for just as long. They both knew how to compromise for a common goal, even if that goal used to be the End of the World. 

They knew how to butter each other up, make a deal sound good, to push their own side's agenda.

But this would-be _shared_ agenda, and such a personal one, no less? It sounded too good to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: February - Business, in which they deal with an overzealous horseman.
> 
> See you tomorrow ❤


	3. February - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I kindly ask you, in Her name, to get your shit together." - Gabriel, the Messenger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to remind you all that this is, in part, a review of real catastrophes that happened in 2020. There will be some rough topics.

  


### 

◆◈◇◇◇◇ FEBRUARY - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**3rd of February 2020:** Desert locusts have devastated Kenya. These insects are able to multiply 20-fold in three months and reach densities of 80 million per square kilometre. Each can consume 2g of vegetation every day – combined, a swarm of 80 million can consume food equivalent to that eaten by 35,000 people a day .

Beelzebub froze in her tracks. "We finally caught up to him."

For almost two weeks they had been following his tracks, one devastated field after ruined harvest after wiped out crops after another, leaving piles of dead humans behind.

"Bee, you don't like this, do you?" Gabriel asked, a hint of genuine concern in his words. She still hadn't moved, her flies orbiting her far closer than usual.

Beelzebub gestured at herself, "Prince of Gluttony," then she waved at the constantly morphing cloud hanging low in the sky, " _Famine's_ locusts. Take a guess." 

"Let me handle him, then." Lighting crackled around the Archangel for a few seconds. He rolled his shoulders before making his way into the mango orchard the swarm was descending into. 

He opened his arms wide in greeting and gave the horsemen his best diplomatic smile. "Hey, Famine, I kindly ask you, in Her name, to get your shit together." 

"Oh, the Messenger!" Famine said in greeting with sharp teeth showing, "Care to explain why I should listen?"

"Because Satan backs God's request." Beelzebub explained, stepping up to Gabriel's side.

Famine's eyebrows rose at that. "What strange times."

"Strange enough for you to fuck up West and Central Africa." The Lord of Flies growled as her insects tried to find a single leftover bite of fruit, to no avail. While her department only punished those who turned to gluttony, Famine relentlessly took everyone's food, without any discrimination, and starvation was a slow and cruel death.

"Don't understate my work." He straightened his shoulders, evidently feeling offended. "Just wait until I made it all the way around the Red Sea."

Gabriel clapped his hands together and threw him another smile. "Humans already call it a biblical plague; I think you got the attention you wanted."

"Biblical? Oh, please." Famine waved his hand as if the word brought with it a dreadful stench. "This is far bigger than Egypt."

"We know." Beelzebub sighed. "That's why we're here."

"I already went to Somalia, Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Ethiopia--"

"Famine, we know." Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. Horsemen, always so full of themselves.

"And I still have a few countries on my list, mind you," at that he actually pulled out a physical list, made from regular paper, from his slim-cut jacket's breast pocket. "Including South-Sudan, Sudan, good old Egypt, Isreal, Jordan--"

“ _Famine!_ ”

"Libanon, Syria, maybe a quick hop over to Turkey, then Irak, Saudi-Arabia, and off to the grand finale: Yemen."

"Yemen, really?" Even the empathetically detached Archangel looked worried now. 

"Haven't the people of Yemen suffered enough?" The Demon Prince growled and clenched her rapidly heating fists. Starvation was already a raging problem there as it was, but now locust swarms? 

"What, can't I go and have a _professional date_ with my old friend War?" Famine said and eyed the agents of Heaven and Hell suspiciously while locusts ate up his list. 

"Can't you just, say, have dinner with her, or take her golfing, and _not_ kill another million or two?" Gabriel asked, rather vexed. What exactly defined a Horseman's professionalism? They weren't getting orders from anyone, per se. They had been more or less a byproduct of Creation, the threats to life itself, countering faith and hope. Sure, God could ask them to stop, which was attempted right here and now, but their relationship was far different from that to Her angels or even the split-off group that had become demons.

Famine smiled at them. Beelzebub did not like that, not one bit. "By the way, have you seen Pestilence?" He asked while nonchalantly inspecting his nails. "Rumour has it she made a trip to China. She had been quite grumpy since her invitation to Armageddon had been withdrawn."

"Believe me, we're all pissed that things didn't turn out as prophecised." The Lord of Flies groaned. The sheer amount of paperwork that had been done to redistribute all those hyped up demons from being a soldier back to a worker. A worker with a desk instead of a battlefield. No murder, just a bit of torture depending on your Prince's department.

"Oh, Pestilence is more than just 'pissed'. She was replaced by Pollution since humans started to fear that more than disease." His demeanour changed, from appalling casual arrogance to something bitter and dangerous. "You don't _replace_ a fear, you _add_ them up."

"So are you stopping your plague now, buddy?" Gabriel quipped.

Beelzebub violently facepalmed. "You moron."

Famine, on the other hand, seemed amused. "Try to stop me, little bird."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider donating to a trustworthy organization that provides food or those affected by the locust plague that, you guessed it, is still going on. 
> 
> Up next: February - Leisure, in which push comes to more push. 
> 
> See you tomorrow ♥


	4. February - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Michael and Dagon don't stop anyone from doing something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, how about we go back to idiots in love being dumb? 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◇◇◇◇ FEBRUARY - LEISURE ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**14th of February 2020:** The Archangel Gabriel and Prince of Gluttony Beelzebub have their respective best friends assist them on a private endeavour. 

Michael had watched her fellow Archangel all morning. For several hours Gabriel had typed away on his laptop, with numerous tabs piling up in his browser while he scratched at the continuously growing stubble on his chin. How long has he been working on this project of his?

"What about this one?" He turned the laptop towards Michael, eyebrows pulled up expectantly.

The female-by-choice Archangel set down her gold-rimmed porcelain cup of Yorkshire Gold tea and drew the laptop closer. "No, it doesn't have a basement." She pointed a gold-painted fingernail at the sketched plan view.

"It does have several fruit trees on the plot, though." He countered. "Also, the house is at the very outskirts of the village."

Michael shook her head. "Trust me; you'll need a basement." Why was she helping him, again? This was a bad idea. Not his worst, but a bad one. "Gabriel, are you sure you want to do this?"

The Messenger was already back to his private research, eyes flicking left and right comparing layouts and locations. "Why?" He asked brusquely. 

"Just be aware of the implications if you send the file to her desk today." She took another sip of tea. "It's the 14th of February."

"And that means?" He inquired without averting his eyes from the screen.

"It's Valentine's Day." Michael stated. "Shouldn't you ask her out on a date first, maybe?"

Gabriel's fingers froze on the keyboard. His purple eyes glazed over for a moment. "Oh." He said and blinked a few times as something quite important finally dawned on him. Then, he shrugged. "Anyway, sometimes you have to hit the ground running."

The other Archangel inelegantly choked on her tea. She dabbed a white handkerchief at her golden lips. "You know not every problem can be solved with _jogging_ , right?"

"Mikey, what do you think of me? Of course I know." Gabriel huffed a little laugh. "The rest can be solved by smooth-talking." He turned to Michael with his winning smile. "And I'm _the_ best at that."

Michael had to bite back a giggle. "Naturally. You're the Messenger, after all."

"See, this is why I like you." Said Messenger noted while he got up to collect his selection from the very busy printer. "You get me."

"I'd wager it's not me you want to get you." She remarked with an amused smile.

"Huh?"

\- - -

"My lord, what do you need these for?" Dagon asked as she folded various angles and sizes of dog ears into the freshly printed papers.

"Gabriel was being stupid." Beelzebub mumbled around her mouthful of overpriced chocolates. Today's holiday had been a collaboration between her and the Princes of Lust and Greed. Every year the three of them would set up a buffet of disgustingly tasty chocolate pralines from all over the world (some of them in naughty shapes, thank you, Asmodeus).

"Well, duh. Elaborate?" The Lord of Files asked her Prince as she stamped another paper with a dirty coffee mug. 

"He suggested that we could move in with each other to prove that we're better than the traitors." Beelzebub explained and hit print on another house insertion. This one even had a pool! "He'll surely back off once I put these on the table and shit gets too real."

"You don't sound like you want him to back off." Dagon smiled at her with too many, too sharp teeth.

"Now _you_ back off, Dagon." The Prince of Gluttony growled.

"I'll add scribbled hearts on the side of some of these, my Lord." She reached for a gnawed-upon pencil and cackled.

Beelzebub threw a rusty stapler at her. Expecting this reaction from millennia of experience with the Left Hand of Satan made it easy for her to catch the stapler and it promptly was used for it's intended purposes. Dagon made sure the newest printouts weren't aligned and stapled the papers together perfectly askew. 

_Ah, the joys of office work!_

"My Lord, in all honesty, he's enough of an asshole that no one in Hell would mind if you tried to get into his awfully clean pants." She rubbed her thumb over a piece of chocolate and smeared a brown smudge on the corner of the next layout. 

"I'm not trying to--"

Dagon held up a collage of wrinkled property photographs. "I can see that. This looks downright _domestic_."

Beelzebub buried her face in both hands. "What am I doing?" She wined with a muffled voice. 

"Something stupid, you two have at least that in common."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: March - Business, in which we have to face the main event of 2020. 
> 
> See you tomorrow ♥


	5. March - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about another rogue Horseman in 2020? Sounds good, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was entirely written on my phone and later edited as well since the baby girl was sleeping on my chest.
> 
> I hope it's not too messy!

  


### 

◆◆◈◇◇◇ MARCH - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**11th of March 2020:** The World Health Organization officially declares the outbreak of COVID19 as a pandemic.

“Where is she?” Beelzebub demanded to know, “Does anyone know where the fuck Pestilence is?!” She yelled buzzingly as she passed several offices. 

Why, in Satan's name, was it her job to find the rogue Horseman? Her speciality was Gluttony. This had nothing to do with food if you disregarded the humans buying cans of food, dozens of packs of pasta and rice in bulk while food banks for those in need were running dry. For a species often referred to as a herd they were surprisingly egoistical.

And some wonder why Hell was a thing in the first place, tsk.

“I’m sorry, my Lord, but she’s all over the place.” A flock of Eriks said as they fell into step with her. It sounded like a scared choir, a quivering voice here, a whine there, one of them even screeched as she glowered at him.

She climbed the steps to her throne and sprawled on her well-earned seat. Flies were zipping angrily throughout her throne room. Fucking Horsemen. She took a deep breath to ground herself.

"Do you have at least a lead?" She asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

“Yes, my Lord,-” one Erik began.

“-but she’s not easy to find-” the next Erik continued.

"-she has blended in so well-" a third Erik added.

"-almost like Camouflage-" Erik number four explained.

“-looking like a woman in her early forties-” The fifth Erik held up a photograph of Pestilence licking a public transport grab pole.

“-white blouse, blue jeans-” The sixth Erik said, pointing at the picture.

“-and a blonde bob cut with highlights.” the seventh Erik finished.

“She’s a Karen, I know. I’d assume she thinks it’s funny, but I know better. She’s using that look, weaponising it.”

“She’s also very rude-”

“-touching everything-”

“-getting into everyone’s personal space for passive-aggressive insults.”

“-or plain aggressive, really.” The four Eriks looked at each other with sympathy.

“Once she gets to the US, she’ll be impossible to find.” The closest Erik to Beelzebub said.

“Too many Karens.” The one to his left chimed in.

"So many Karens." The Erik to his right whispered with sheer dread.

Beelzebub rubbed her temples. She’d witnessed too many plagues in her long life. She knew how easily they could escalate. And this one? Escalating already, as if someone was actively hopping from country to country to plant it like seeds.

“Erik, you are Legion, if anyone can find her, it’s you. Whatever resources you need, you’ll get them.” Most of Erik will be stationed across the globe at all major airports, markets and tourist hubs at once. Others will be scanning all social media platforms 24/7, especially the conspiratorial ones, looking for hints. 

The Erik at the front fidgeted, unsure if he should voice his request. “I just don’t want to be murdered for fun anymore, my Lord.” 

“Or for educational purposes.” An Erik from the back chimed in.

“I’ll talk to Leviathan for you.” Beelzebub said. It wouldn't be easy to convince the Prince of Wrath to stop (ab)using Erik during his training sessions, but finding Pestilence was of utmost priority. This new virus killed surprisingly often and quickly for being considered just a cold or flu by so many humans. The influx of dead would be a nightmare while Heaven and Hell were still in the midst of restructuring after the lack of world-ending events. 

"You will?” Erik asked in union.

The Lord of Flies leaned forward on her throne, pinning on the doppelganger demon with a stern look. “Are you questioning my word?”

They all backed off and bowed repeatedly. “Of course not, my Lord, I’m sorry.”

“Find Pestilence.” The Prince repeated her original order and waved him off. Better end a meeting with your subject showing some respect before they get any funny ideas. 

Erik shuffled all seven of him out of the roomq, leaving Beelzebub to sink down in her throne in frustration. Even her flies settled down to recuperate for a moment. 

Two Horsemen. Two, doing whatever the fuck they wanted.

She pulled out her phone and braced herself. _Gabriel, Gabriel, Blow Your Horn_ started blaring. 

"Have I mentioned that Pride has a special place in Hell for those who replace their dial tone with music?" She had mentioned that. Several times. He always ignored it. 

"Oh, hello Bee!” Gabriel too chipper voice sounded from her phone’s speaker. “Hi! I'm good, how are you?"

Beelzebub growled quietly in defeat. "Yes, _hello Gabriel_. How is the surveillance going?"

"As you know Heaven has been tracking humanity ever since _after_ that incident with Adam and Eve. We do have a lot of experience and certainly the best technology--"

"Gabriel." She interrupted, knowing what the Archangel was trying. 

"As you can imagine, we did not expect to be tracking the whereabouts of any Horsemen, and there are _five_ of them these days."

"Get to the point."

The angel clicked his tongue, that laughed in a pacifying manner. "It's a tad trickier than we're used to, but--"

"No. Gabriel,” The Prince insisted, “no talking in circles."

The Messenger sighed. "I have no fucking clue how to find her since our system is exclusively meant to be tracking humans."

"So track the humans who got sick, go back from there and find the common encounter that infected them." The demon suggested. 

"See, that's what Michael said.” He told her, “We're way ahead of Hell's ideas." 

Beelzebub groaned at the gloating. "Well then, where is Pestilence?"

"As you now know, we have a plan. A _good_ plan. But - and this is a small but - tracing takes more time than we originally thought. This virus has spread to 25 countries already, and humans are zig-zagging across the planet in their cars and trains and aeroplanes all the time."

And this is where Hell came into play. It was still a strange feeling, experiencing how Heaven and Hell complemented each other. "Erik will keep an eye on those hubs and junctions of transportation."

"Smart idea. Your idea? Has to be." Oh, the angel clearly will be asking for a favour, attempting to bluntly sweet-talk like that. 

"Erik's idea, to be honest.” She said, making sure he could hear that his compliment did not affect her. “I guess that's why he gets along so well with Michael."

"Speaking of getting along, are you available next Saturday?" Ah, there it was. There was something different, though. His voice sounded off, as if he wasn’t sure his words would get him what he wanted this time. 

"Why?" For reasons Beelzebub did not want to think about a hot flush ran down her spine and pooled in her stomach.

"Let's go investigate something else together.” Gabriel proposed, sounding a little more poised, “some of the houses you suggested admittedly look quite nice."

He didn't back off. Oh shit, fuck, oh _no_. He didn't back off. 

"Bee?" 

He's either playing the long game for an elaborate prank or …

“If you don’t have time, we can reschedule. I know you’re at least as busy and hard-working as I am. Just give me a yes or no.” 

… or he was serious.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: March - Leisure, in which there is real estate. Not free. 
> 
> See you tomorrow 💜


	6. March - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestials and real estate. 
> 
> Plus feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again entirely written in bed while being hogged by my baby girl.

  


### 

◆◆◆◇◇◇ MARCH - LEISURE ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**March 14th 2020:** Two immortal beings are meeting at a cottage located on the edge of a small town in the English county Dorset.

This was it, the first real estate appointment. Gabriel had set up several over the course of the next few weeks, taking her busy schedule into consideration every single time. 

To her horror, she had agreed to all of them. Beelzebub tugged at the ruffled sleeves of her dark red blouse and straightened her matte black blazer. This endeavour wouldn't end well. She was a demon; it was almost a law of nature that things weren't supposed to end well for her.

Still, hope was a pesky little voice in the back of her head that wouldn't leave her alone. Especially not when Gabriel was waiting for her at a garden gate, dressed like _that_ , breaking into his stupid smile as soon as he spotted her.

He was accompanied by a shorter man, probably in his mid-twenties, who announced himself as Mr Munningstone. He was organising the sale of the cottage behind him.

“Welcome, Mr. and Misses..?” the young real estate agent asked as he held out his hand for a second and then quickly put it back on his tablet. Humans were trying their best not to touch each other anymore, at least the smart ones. 

“Miss.” Beelzebub corrected him with a raised chin. “Miss Bubenstein.”

"Gabriel Smith, nice to meet you." Gabriel said with such an overacted wave that Beelzebub expected a 'my fellow human' to be added at the end of the sentence.

How he had become The Messenger was beyond her understanding. It had to have something to do with his looks, one of his few redeeming qualities. Another one was his sense of fashion, but did he really have to wear a white suit to go house shopping? Either the fabric was thick and/or dense enough to not let anything shine through, or the angel was wearing _nothing_ underneath those snugly tailored trousers.

The demon bit her lower lip while she followed Gabriel and Mr Munningstone through the front door. The living room was spacious, the kitchen small but had two windows. There was one more room on the ground floor, which previously had been used as a private library and a reading room with a small terrace through a glass door.

The upstairs had four rooms, two of them being suggested to be occupied by children. Beelzebub smiled politely to not look suspicious, while Gabriel immediately claimed the biggest room, which had a rooflight, as his office, and declared the rest to be bedroom, dressing room and gym.

They went through the rather bleak garden that had all trees and bushes removed for remodelling just before the former owner had passed away. The plan had been a pagoda surrounded by rows upon rows of roses the old lady wanted to cultivate and breed in her retirement, Mr Munningstone told them.

"She's with us." Gabriel gleefully whispered to the Prince of Hell. "Nice lady, good Catholic. Not even a single speeding ticket."

Beelzebub rolled her eyes and caught up to their agent. She still had to see rooms suitable for her infernal needs. "Can we see the basement?"

"Well, of course, come along this way, please." He took them to a set of stone steps at the back of the house that led down to a wooden door with worn down red painting.

The basement itself was small, cold, and damp. Beelzebub felt right at home. The old house had a cellar that was walled with natural stone, the floor was uneven and the ceiling narrow. This wasn’t made from concrete; it smelled like wet wood and drippy caves.

"I don't like this." Gabriel declared from the stairs. 

He'd have to bend his head to fit into in here, a lovely way to keep him out, the Prince thought. "The basement isn't meant for you, Gabriel."

"I know.” He said, locking his eyes with her’s. “This is why I don't like it. You deserve better."

"I think _your mum_ was quite clear about what I deserve."

"Uhm…" Mr Munningstone was clever enough to take a step back and keep quiet.

"Bee, we're not bound to that here.” Gabriel held out his hand, palm up and open, and beckoned her over. “You can have something nice." 

The demon stood there, in the middle of the moist basement of a mediocre house, trying her best to process. Hell had been forcefully assigned to her when she fell. Sure, she had worked her way up until she became Satan’s feared favourite, granting her a bigger office with less leaky pipes and consistently working ceiling lights. That had been nice.

So what was the level of _nice_ Gabriel had in mind for her?

“Remember?” He spoke in a softer tone and raised his hand further. “We can do better, together."

Something cold gripped her spine. Right. This was a competition. 

How foolish of her to think otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: April - Business, in which we take a trip to Canada.
> 
> See you tomorrow 💜


	7. April - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans are stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had something else planned for this initially, but didn't want to pick something too dark.
> 
> A personal message will be found in the bottom note.
> 
> Now, enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◈◇◇ APRIL - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**18th of April 2020:** A now-abandoned office building is repurposed to house the Princes of Gluttony, Lust and Sloth as well as the demon Erik and the Archangels Michael and Gabriel for the afternoon to discuss the development of a specific current event.

Beelzebub felt the urge to bang her head on the table. Gabriel had an actual PowerPoint presentation. Every pie chart, every diagram, it was all various shades of purple. Each title line had a light grey rectangle in the background with a feather pattern.

There he stood, by the projected data, all grand gestures and smiles and why the fuck was Erik looking so impressed? All three of him who were here!

Gabriel clapped his hands and sat back down at the head of the table. One last click on his pretentious device and a summary, in purples and greys, popped up on the wall behind him. "Bottom line is, we're at over 2,1 million cases, almost 150.000 deaths, infections in 113 countries. The mortality rate is, depending on the health care and hygiene circumstances of the individual, somewhere between 1,5 to 9%. Which is too much, considering millions are infected. I'd love to tell you otherwise, but even Heaven will be struggling with the sudden influx in souls if this disease isn't stopped."

"And this is where you come in, Messenger." Beelzebub stated, and got up with a snap that pulled a beaten up Flipchart into existence.

"Me?" He asked, exasperated. "I thought you princes were doing a fine job already."

"Thank you." The Prince of Sloth said, reclining his office chair a bit further to slouch. "Keeping humans home isn't as easy as we thought it would be, but I'm on it."

"I'm helping where I can." Asmodeus said, licking his lips suggestively. "But don't blame me for an increase in birthrate next year." He winked at Gabriel. Beelzebub wanted to strangle him, but the Prince of Lust was probably into that. 

The Lord of Flies turned back to the Archangel. "Don't weasel your way out of work." She flipped the first paper revealing her presentation's title. "We need your unparalleled expertise as the Messenger." 

At that, he straightened his shoulders. "I'm listening."

Falling for compliments, as usual. The angel could be so easy. Michael, who was seated next to him, didn't even care to hide her smirk.

"Misinformation, besides humanity's urge to 'party it up', is one of the biggest issues we face." She flipped to the next title reading '5G'. 

"Misinformation transmitted through 5G? What do I have to do with that?" Gabriel asked.

"No." Beelzebub intervened. "There are humans, and not just a few, who believe that towers constructed for the new 5G mobile network are causing Covid."

"How?" Michael asked.

"Why?" Gabriel added.

The demon Prince sighed. "They found that a map depicting the hotspots of Covid correlated with where those towers are built."

"But," Michael began, "there are just more humans there, which is why those towers are lucrative in those areas."

"We all understand that. Certain humans don't. Please see to it that a clear message gets out there before they start being more stupid than usual and, I don't know, begin burning the towers down." Beelzebub explained and flipped to the next page.

"Deep State." She announced. 

"That dastardly vague bullshit again." Gabriel quipped.

"Don't we know it." Beelzebub sighed. "The elite of the elite is either trying to undermine the current president of the US or the entire planet. Some believe Covid is a planted disease to cull the population and save the money paid out in benefits to the sick and elderly by governments."

"We Princes all know that the president can't be undermined. He dug himself too deep already." Asmodeus chimed in. 

"He's a special one." Sloth added. "Can't get him to make everyone stay home. Something about _'can't hear you over all this freedom and money'_. Believe me, I've tried to get through to him, to dampen the spread of Covid, but he just wouldn't listen."

"Gabriel, save yourself the headache and just circumvent him some way or another." Beelzebub suggested. "He listens to nobody, not even his own conscience."

"You think not even I could talk sense into him?" the Messenger asked, offended.

Instead of answering him, Beelzebub glared at the angel with a cocked brow.

"Fine." Gabriel said. 'Next, please?"

The following page read 'Big Pharma'. "Not a new one, just the usual. Humans think pharmaceutical companies are infecting people on purpose to then sell the remedy. Since this virus seems to have a couple of lasting effects on the human body, they'd make a pretty penny for several decades."

"Well, I can see where they're coming from." Abbadon told them. "Mammon had quite the influence on the industry." Naturally, the Prince of Sloth and the Prince of Greed didn't get along.

"True. I don't think we can do much about this one. Next." The Lord of Flies flipped to another page. "Bill Gates. The same issue, just condensed into one person."

Gabriel frowned. "Doesn't he _fight_ diseases these days?"

"Yes. Logic here is that he acts like a firefighter who commits arson, just worse. Allegedly, he doesn't just want to be the hero who'll save all of humanity, but he also plans to use the future vaccine to implant microchips into humans to track or even control them."

"Can he do that?" Gabriel turned to Michael for an answer.

"I think we all know the answer to that." The other Archangel said secretively.

The Messenger sighed. "All of these, except the 5G one, are conspiracies I can't do much about. They are just plausible enough."

"Oh, there is so much more, Gabriel." Beelzebub laughed. "Like the idea that governments just want to oppress their people by forcing them to stay home, using the grand lie of Covid as an excuse."

"Lie? Thousands are dead."

"Ignorance is bliss." The female Prince said with a stern look. "You haven't heard half of it. Erik, please tell him my favourite conspiracy you found."

The Eriks looked at each other expectantly, waiting for one of him to take the lead and talk first. He was among Princes and Archangels! Him, the disposable demon no one cared to remember by name! 

One by one he stood up. 

The first cleared his throat and began after a timid smile. "There is this idea that there are lizard people living in the hollow inside of Earth."

The second Erik fidgeted with the hem of his worn-down metal band shirt. "They have infiltrated every major human government and company worldwide and lead humanity from the shadows."

Erik number three wiped sweaty palms on his torn black jeans. "They only take orders from interdimensional vampire elves who exclusively drink baby blood. People staying home means more babies."

Gabriel's face had scrunched up after he had heard the first part, and by the end of it, he looked as if he had just received a concussion. "Always so creative, those humans." He said, full of contempt.

"So what I need you to do is to provide a clear message and assure it’s spread. At least until we get Pestilence under control." The Prince of Gluttony demanded. "Wash your hands, wear a mask, stay away from stupid people."

"But there's more to it," the Archangel complained, "Airing rooms every hour, minimizing contacts, refraining from touching things in public places--"

"Gabriel," Beelzebub growled. "I need you to deliver a short and simple message that is impossible to misunderstand. Can you do that?"

Michael looked between the two as if she was able to read between the lines. She watched how Beelzebub swallowed something hard. She saw how Gabriel loosened his tie and took a moment too long to answer. Maybe he’d get it, eventually. 

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last night, when the baby was refusing to fall asleep until two in the morning, I re-read parts of my Christmas fic of last year. I need to apologize to you guys. My life has changed so much during 2020, so not only am I all rusty now, but inspiration is different as well. On top of that I currently lack the time to mull over my vocabulary for hours and hours. 
> 
> I don't think I'll ever be able to replicate that level of writing, but I'll try my best.
> 
> Thank you for being here, hottie kudos and leaving comments, it means so much to me ❤️
> 
> Up next: April - Leisure, in which the common theme of stupid ideas is still a thing.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	8. April - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An agreement about a house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters keep changing from the original plan, whoops.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◇◇ APRIL - LEISURE ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**30th of April 2020:** Today Archangel Gabriel and Prince of Gluttony Beelzebub meet at a house in the county Devon.

It was the 8th house, one of Beelzebub's suggestions. The entire garden was surrounded by a privet hedge instead of a fence or low wall. Neighbours wouldn't be able to see what was going on inside unless they stood at the gate and bend over it like the nosy fucks they are. There was only one adjacent plot left of the house, the back and right lead to a meadow and a small forest.

But the outstanding detail of the garden was that it had a pool. A pool that truly needed some scrubbing, but there were a blessed pool and a terrace with enough space to accommodate a gratuitous grill as well.

The Archangel leaned onto the balcony rail. You could _almost_ reach the cherry tree from here and pick fresh fruits in the summer. The foliage wasn't blocking the view to the pool and terrace down in the garden, but the garden gate would be around the corner and therefore out of sight. No one who wasn't already on the plot would be able to see up here. Absolute privacy.

"Hmm." Gabriel straightened up again, his fit v-neck long sleeve shirt stretching over his chest. "I think this is the one." He declared with utmost conviction.

The real estate agent's stilettos clicked on the dark hardwood floor. "The previous owner used this room as the main living room, as it has a lovely view."

"This will be the bedroom." Gabriel decided.

"It's too big for a bedroom." Beelzebub interjected.

"You have bedroom size limits?" The Archangel asked, something cocky swinging in his voice.

"The basement has two rooms--" Beelzebub tried to explain, but was quickly interrupted by the angel.

"Of which one will be your office and the other should be a storage room for older files. Or better, a waiting room, think about that!" He said with a smug smile on his lips.

And yes, the demon did give it a moment's thought. "I could set up a broken grandfather's clock that ticks just out of rhythm."

"Now, that is evil." Gabriel's hand was on her shoulder. This stupid angel had a habit of touching her without any sense for self-preservation. Probably because she hadn't lashed out at him in the past, say, three thousand years. 

"Bee, I won't let you sleep down there. The bed I had described? Wouldn't fit anywhere but right here." He gestured at the space opposite the big windows and glass door.

"The bed?" She asked, feeling her corporation's pulse quicken.

"King size metal frame four-poster with thick dark red curtains." He turned her fully to face towards the wall opposite of the balcony. "It would stand right there. Waiting for you to use it."

Beelzebub gulped. "And where would you..?"

"Oh, Bee, I don't get to sleep." 

The real estate agent, with her cheeks flush, cleared her throat. 

"My dressing room is just across the hallway. That's all I need." Gabriel stated.

Beelzebub rolled her eyes at him. "As if you could fit all your suits in there."

"I'll manage." He retorted, then let a slight smirk creep into his face. "You could help me pick the best ones to keep here."

The Prince crossed her arms. "That would take literal ages."

"Unfortunately, we have all the time we need." This time Gabriel flat out grinned. 

There it was again, this pesky sliver of hope poking at her metaphysical heart. She wasn't imagining things, right? The Archangel was flirting with her? Even if not, the opportunity to watch Gabriel play dress-up doll for her to watch and judge was just too good to pass on.

She turned to the agent. "This is the one."

"Bee?" Gabriel squeezed her shoulder. Oh, he was still touching her.

"What?" She asked, once again feeling her own pulse thudding.

"Will you really be alright sleeping up here?"

"So close to Heaven?" Now, _that_ was a loaded question. "I think I can handle it." She said, fully aware of the innuendo.

Were Gabriel's cheeks tinting pink? She had to be imagining things. Had to be the afternoon lighting. 

"Miss, we'll absolutely be buying this one." Gabriel spoke with tangible urgency.

"There are still other applicants," the middle-aged woman told them and held out a clipboard, "leave your name and contact information here, and you'll hear from us."

"Don't be silly, I said we will be buying this one. This lady here deserves something nice, this house _is_ nice, and I'll pay a nice sum. What is your preferred currency?"

The wanker had just called her a _lady_. She'd be angry if he hadn't once again insisted that she deserved something nice. There was a consistent theme here; his criteria for each house had been details concerning very much not him, despite his ego. The basement, the bedroom, the privacy of the location as Beelzebub was craving for something quiet when getting away from crowded Hell. Gabriel knew that. Gabriel had cared to remember that. 

What was in it for him? A house on earth clearly was a downgrade from his pretentious Archangel office Upstairs. Yes, there was a track behind the house perfect for jogging, which he loved to do with his body, but somehow he didn't even mention it once. 

_Hope._

"You surely understand that there is no need to show this house to anyone else." Beelzebub said in her most cold business voice. 

All colour drained from the agent's face. "Right, of course. Just give me a moment to make some phone calls." She stammered nervously and fled the room.

Beelzebub turned back to the balcony door. What would it be like, waking up to this instead of a mouldy concrete wall? "Next thing I know one of us will set up shop, like Aziraphale." She mumbled.

Gabriel laughed at that. "Well, you could open a drinking establishment."

The demon groaned. "You know I don't drink."

"But I already have the perfect name." The Archangel told her, looking all smug.

"I'm getting the feeling I don't want to hear it." She braves herself, knowing the angel didn't realize when to shut up.

Gabriel gestured an arch with both hands. "Beelze-Pub."

Beelzebub groaned in pain at the pun. "Why am I putting up with you? I've already been through Hell, but this is worse."

"Nah, I think you like me." He had the audacity to wink at her.

Heat rushed into Beelzebub's face. Act natural! "Don't push your luck, birdbrain."

"That threat doesn't work." In that moment his stupid gleeful smile had reached his too pretty eyes and turned _soft_. "I've pushed my luck, and now you're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: May - Business. Cruel shit happens.
> 
> See you tomorrow.


	9. May - Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be hard to digest.

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◈◇ MAY - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**25th of May 2020:** The Left Hand of Satan is called to Minneapolis.

Beelzebub was mulling over a wrinkly IKEA catalogue on her office desk, folding dog ears into all the pages that showed black furniture, dark room designs and decorative elements. Her _landline_ rang, the handset rattling angrily on the old device.

"Prince Beelzebub, the fuck you want?" She answered.

"Oi, fellow Prince, we need backup," Leviathan, the Prince of Wrath said, "get your arse to Minneapolis." 

Beelzebub pulled her feet off the table to tuck them back into her boots. "Who's 'we'?"

"Just me and Mephistopheles." 

"And of course they made _you_ call me for help, that stuck up spiv." She said with the handset tucked between shoulder and cheek to fasten the buckles on her shoes.

"You owe me a favour for taking parts of Erik from me." Leviathan reminded her with an extra amount of snide.

"Fine." With a snap of her fingers, Beelzebub popped out of her office and reappeared next to the Prince of Wrath. "Make it brief."

Wrath pushed his red-tinted glasses back up his nose and pointed at the police car on the other side of the road. "It's been six minutes already." 

Across the street and next to the car lay a black man on the pavement, which wasn't unusual in the USA, held in place by one of those who swore to protect its citizens. This was why Wrath was here. "Here to claim him?"

"Yeah." Leviathan said, tapping his fingers on a blood-red moleskin. "Thought it was a casual case of police brutality, same old, same old. I got here when he had his knee on the poor bugger's throat for two minutes, which already is brutal enough. Tried to call dibs on his rotten soul, but then our fancypants Prince of Pride showed up."

Mephistopheles cleared their throat and stepped closer, heels clicking. "This is clearly an act of pride. The officer considers the black man a lesser human, refuses to listen to his victim's pleas to be merely allowed to breathe and disregards any begging and screaming from bystanders who are trying to save the man's life."

"The wanker probably has a picture of a _literal_ white Jesus in his home." Wrath growled. "The old lad has to hate that, hypocrisy and some such bollocks."

Seven minutes had passed. The hapless guy was already dead, but the policeman was still kneeling on his neck as if he were a mere hunting trophy, surrounded by three more complicit protectors of the law. 

"His name is George Floyd." A fourth voice clarified in a sombre tone. 

"Gabriel?" Beelzebub blinked in surprise. "What are _you_ doing here?

"Picking up Mr Floyd, personally." He said, tugging at his sleeves. 

All celestial beings turned their eyes back to the tragedy unfolding. Blue mist was reluctantly starting to form above the body. This soul would need time to face his unfair reality.

"I also made sure plenty of phone batteries were miraculously charged enough to power their cameras for the entirety of the encounter." The Archangel explained, hands in his pockets instead of waving around as usual.

"He's a Martyr." Pride stated.

"He is." The Archangel confirmed. "I'll make sure his message is heard, loud and clear, across the globe. Every angle is covered this time, the police won't be able to weasel their way out." 

Eight minutes, but the officer was still kneeling. 

"And those entitled fuckwits have the gall to think not being able to get a haircut for a measly couple of weeks is oppression." Wrath growled. "How about a clean haircut and chopping the heads right off along with it."

"Mixing narcissism and murder, I like that." Mephistopheles nodded at their colleague in appreciation. 

"Let's get to it, then." Before Wrath could step a single foot towards the policemen, three sets of hands were on his arms to hold him back.

"You know the rules. Humans have to figure this out, all we can do is tempt or bless to guide them."

"Fuck the rules." Leviathan spat and clenched his fists, making his leather gloves creak.

"Shit." Beelzebub hissed. "There will be protests!"

"Well, of course," Gabriel said incredulously, "they will be part of the message."

"Pestilence will have a field day with them." She threw her head back and groaned. "And knowing this place there will be counter-protests that every empathy lacking douchebag will flock to and then cough on each other."

"Welcome to the Land of the Free." Wrath cackled. "Where freedom is just a carrot on a stick held by white folks, in all honesty."

"This will be a nightmare." The Lord of Flies prophesied. 

Gabriel's hand ever so lightly touched the small of her back for support. "We _need_ this Martyr to move forward." 

"Where will his executioner go, though? Pride or Wrath?" Mephistopheles asked, addressing Beelzebub.

"That one?" She narrowed her eyes as if to read the fine print that made up the officer's soul.

Eight minutes and forty-six seconds. He finally lifted his knee. The recordings were uploaded to every social media channel imaginable and then some. He might be back on his feet, but there was no place to run.

"Oh, that bastard is special. He will be handled by our King himself." Beelzebub announced coldly. "Do with the other officers as you please, but call Sloth first. They just stood there and did _nothing_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be assured that I wrote this meaning no disrespect to George Floyd, his family, or anytone affected by this tragedy. Please step up when you witness violence of any kind. 
> 
> Next up: May - Leisure. Compromises are made. 
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	10. May - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hammertime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on 3h of sleep. Baby thought nighttime was playtime. Welp. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◇ MAY - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**31st of May 2020:** On a mild and sunny day at the end of May Gabriel and Beelzebub start working on their house.

Gabriel arrived at the house to the distinct sound of smashing.

"Bee?" He called out and listened for an answer. 

Smash. 

"Up in the bedroom!" she answered.

Smash.

Gabriel rushed up the stairs, zipped around the hallway corner and pushed the bedroom door open. Inside he found Beelzebub dressed in a black full-body cargo jumpsuit and worn down boots. There was a sizable sledgehammer in her hands which was swung at the bedroom wall with gusto. 

That should not be as sexy as Gabriel experienced it to be.

"What are you doing?" The angel asked.

"What does it look like?" She asked while pulling the hammer back for another forceful swing. "You said you wanted a dressing room adjacent to the bedroom." Smash! Bricks came loose and toppled out on the other side. "I'm making a hole for a door."

"Across the hallway was just fine, Bee."

"We can do better than _just fine_ , Gabriel." She reminded him and wiped sweat from her forehead. 

Heat did nothing to her, but physical exercise did? The Archangel did his best to not let himself draw conclusions. The ideas that snuck into his head were still very unbecoming of an angel. 

"Also, I needed an outlet for my frustration." The demon set the hammer down on its head and leaned onto it. Even though she was taking a break, her flies kept bumping into the wall over and over again, making small bits of plaster crumble down.

"Naturally, the bedroom is the perfect place for that." Gabriel said, unable to stop his mouth. _Well, in for the penny, in for the pounding._ "Can I help?"

The Prince of Gluttony snapped her fingers and a second hammer appeared. Gabriel looked at it, acted all offended, and miracled it bigger.

Beelzebub snorted in amusement. "Hit it, big guy."

Later that day, when the warm light of the setting sun was breaking through the cherry tree's leaves and painted orange patterns on the floor, the two celestials sat on the ground of what used to be the dining room but would be their living room with an open kitchen.

"No, you can't just paint all walls black." Gabriel said, throwing his arms in exasperation.

"Why the fuck not? It looks classy." Beelzebub asked between bites. She had ordered a gratuitous box of mixed finger food.

"It's dark and evil." The angel explained.

The Prince picked a deep-fried Portobello. "Colours aren't evil."

"But some are associated with evil." He pointed out. "You can paint your rooms in the basement and the bedroom whatever colour you want, but I'm going to use the living room as well. I'm sure we can find a compromise."

"Well, then. You said, since I'm the only one who eats, I could decide on the style of the kitchen as well." To underline her point she bit into a mozzarella stick. "The rooms shouldn't clash, aesthetically." 

Gabriel already regretted that decision. First of all: gross matter was _gross_. Second, the living room and kitchen were basically one big room separated by a counter. Therefore he'd see the kitchen every time he was at the house. 

"You want an entirely black kitchen?" Gabriel asked with a frown.

"To be honest, yes." She pointed at him with a cheese-stuffed chilli pepper. "Don't even try to tell me you wouldn't keep the room fully white if you could."

The Archangel held his hands up in a placating manner. "Enough of black and white, let’s talk about colours."

Beelzebub slapped the hand on the floor and shook her head, only speaking after the swallowed.“No pastel purple in this house!” 

Gabriel, despite the cold command, had to laugh. “Not even a little?” He asked as sweetly as possible.

“No!” The Prince repeated with narrowed eyes. 

The angel didn’t even flinch. On the contrary, he smiled at her. “If combined with black?”

Beelzebub leaned back and eyed the angel sceptically. “Where though?”

Gabriel pointed at the ceiling. “Bathroom.”

“Hm.” The bathroom would be used mostly by Gabriel after coming back from jogging. He’d probably be the obnoxious kind and sing in there as well. Just like that, the images were in her head of Gabriel in the shower, naked, water running down that fit body of his, dancing off tune while singing his own tribute songs humans had written about him. 

The Messenger, too, thought the other would make more use of the bathroom. Plumbing in Hell was a nightmare from what he’d heard. Leaky pipes everywhere, boiler having hiccups more often than not, water coming out weak and rusty. She’d be able to shower and bath here whenever she wanted. 

Gabriel leaned his elbows onto his thighs and hunched forward. “How about black marble floor and wall tiles, contrasted by pastel purple deep-pile rugs and towels.”

Beelzebub remained quiet for a moment. She had to be honest to herself, that did sound like a good compromise. “Do you,” she began, unsure if she’d be asking for too much, “Do you think a black bathtub is a thing?”

The angel beamed at her. “It will be if you want one.” 

And now it was Gabriel's turn to imagine her, dressed down to nothing, her skin contrasting the black tub, blue eyes falling shut as she relaxed in steaming hot water.”

He'd get her that black tub at any cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: my kitchen walls are painted purple, the floor is grey, all furniture including sink and faucet are black. 
> 
> Up next: June - Business, in which Horsemen are a thing again.
> 
> See you tomorrow ♥


	11. June - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A game of Uno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on a whim and within just a few hours. I know the war in Yemen isn't a catastrophe exclusive to 2020, but we should never forget the wars that plague Earth.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◈ JUNE - BUSINESS ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**4th of June 2020:** Beelzebub and Gabriel were given the coordinates of three of the five Horsemen.

A thousands of years old temple lay in ruins, debris spreading out from the stubby remains of its ancient walls and proud pillars. 

The Nakrah temple of Baraquish was just one of many cultural treasures destroyed by the ongoing war in Yemen. Coordinates of them had been offered by archaeologists to keep them safe, not to make them targets, but as Saudi-Arabia had said: War is war.

War herself sat on a green and yellow checkered picnic blanket amidst the rubble, holding a handful of cards. Her red hair was bound in a casual bun, and she was clad in a simple black tunic and sandals. She was accompanied on her session of Uno by two more Horsemen: Famine, who, too, wore a black tunic, hanging loose on his lanky body, and Death, who never changed and never would. Except for a small detail.

"Death, what the _fuck_." Gabriel announced himself the moment his lightning had struck ground next to Beelzebub’s flames of transport. 

"I'm busy." Death deflected with his hollow voice.

"I can see that." Gabriel said, sarcasm audible in his words. "Still, what the fuck?"

"What the Archangel is trying to say is: Murder hornets, really?" Beelzebub helped out. Gabriel was brimming with the urge to smite, but you simply can't smite Death. 

"It was an experiment." He said without looking at the celestials and picked four cards while War cackled. 

"You're Death. You don't get to experiment." Gabriel said angrily. 

"You don't set the rules." Famine reminded Gabriel while dropping a reverse card. 

"No, I don't, but I follow them to the T." The angel said and puffed up his chest. "You _are_ Death, you don't _cause_ it."

"Look, you Horsemen are hard to find. Maybe not War, she's usually here in Yemen or another Middle Eastern country." Beelzebub said. War smiled and waved at her, which, naturally, felt like a threat. "But when an old blueprint happens to go missing in Heaven and a week later, on top of a fucking pandemic, murder hornets show up in the US, and suddenly humans have records of them as if they had existed before that date, we know one of you did it."

"Please stop screwing with reality, Death. 2020 is not the time for it."

"Time is nothing to me."

"We know."

"But I'd like to have my time respected. I never took a day off since the first death. Not once. I was looking forward to a long and lovely vacation once Armageddon was over." Death slowly lifted his skull and looked at the celestials from within his endlessly empty eye sockets. "There is no way to tell if I'll ever get a day off because you two couldn't keep your lovebirds from saving humanity."

Gabriel held up a finger to interject. "Crowley is more of a snake than a bird."

"Gabriel, shut up." Beelzebub hissed at him.

"He's the Serpent of-"

The Prince's elbow jutted into his side. While the angel whined and grumbled under his breath, Beelzebub stepped forward. "I know an eternity of life and death sounds dreadful, Heaven and Hell had to expand their archives to house anything that happened after that day at the airfield. We were not prepared."

"You were ignorant." War chimed in. "If anyone would have bothered to watch those two for more than five minutes would have known that there was something _scandalous_ going on, additionally to them being utterly incompetent."

"Your snake took your little angel out for dinner more times than I could bother to count." Famine continued, dropping several blue cards. "And now he _cooks_ for him." The Horsemen looked disgusted.

"Mistakes have been made, and we assure you, we're trying our best to improve."

"The End of the World was a one-time event. We don't get to improve, and we don't get a second chance to tear the planet to shreds." War said, red cards slapping the stack angrily.

"Now, now, eternity is a long time, anything could happen." Gabriel tried to mollify. 

"Like another set of lovebirds who'll thwart us?" Famine asked, putting down another reverse card.

"Only God knows." Gabriel said with a diplomatic shrug and a broad smile. "Maybe Satan as well, given that they talk on a pretty much daily basis now."

"To get to the point, please stop the unnecessary deaths?" Beelzebub requested with a polite bow. 

"No promises," Death deadpanned, "and shouldn't you ask Pestilence this question?"

"You happen to know where she is?" The Prince inquired.

"Yes, but I'm not snitching on a fellow Horseman." Death's skull appeared frowning with irritation. 

"Oh, and where is Pollution? Not invited to your cute card game or just not interested in ruining this lovely country more than you two assholes are already doing?" Gabriel pointed at War and Famine with what could only be described as finger guns. 

The Horsemen's reaction was to grin at the Archangel and throw arms around each others' shoulders. "No place like Yemen."

The Archangel rolled his eyes. "Very professional." 

The war in Yemen, combined with the ongoing famine and the pandemic on the rise, will kill _millions_. On top of that this war was exceptionally ruthless, it was erasing monuments old enough to be written about in the Quoran, like the 2800 years old Marib Dam, a museum in Aden, the Old City of Sana’a, and the beautiful city Taiz. The Yemenis are forced to watch their cultural heritage crumble. 

And it wasn’t happening just here, but also in Syria, Palestine, Irak and Libya. Almost sixty armed conflicts were taking their toll all around Earth this year. War didn’t merely ruin the land, but also the millennia of memories build upon it. 

Beelzebub cleared her throat. "With all due respect, this planet was saved from destruction for reasons beyond us, even beyond _you_. Please, consider to keep it habitable."

Her hand brushed Gebriel’s unintentionally, but neither of them pulled away. There was a house out there in the low hills of Devon, a place to make memories in. 

Yellow cards were swapped to green. The three Horsemen looked at each other in silent communication.

“Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: June - Leisure, which shall include a flashback. 
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	12. June - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sit down, relax, time for a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This used to be the introduction to a different story I've been meaning to write. It will still get written, I just have to figure out a new opening.
> 
> Enjoy the obligatory flashback chapter!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ JUNE - LEISURE ◇◇◇◇◇◇

  


**28th of June 2020:** Two celestials decide to relax in their garden.

It had been a tough month so far. Not only were the Horsemen of no help - by voice even - but Pestilence had not giving up. Most countries mandated lockdowns during spring and early summer, which stopped an exponential rise of infections, but now that summer was beginning in the northern hemisphere humans wanted to _mingle_.

At least Greed was having fun as his little poster boy Bezos was getting richer than ever since humans ordered goods on Amazon and busied themselves watching video game or live music streams on Amazon's acquired streaming site Twitch. 

Lust was happy with the development of Pornhub, and Sloth celebrated the option of automated play of the next video on YouTube and Netflix. 

The Princes were all helping where they could, more or less sporadically guided by Beelzebub. 

Now, after half a year of Pestilence going viral, the Prince of Gluttony deserved an evening off to recuperate. No office. No real estate agent appointment. No working on the house. Just sitting down, enjoying the quiet and simply unwind. 

When she arrived at the house, Gabriel was alreaady there. He was setting up grey rattan chaiselongues on the terrace and arranging red and white striped pillows on them. 

The inside of the house was still bare bones with only a few boxes stacked in the living room, and at least a dozen buckets of paint with all sorts of brushes and paint rollers piled up next to them. They had agreed on not miracling anything in the house. There was an abundance of time, and they might as well use it and put some honest effort into their shared residence. 

"Hard day at work?" The archangel asked and gestured for her to take a seat.

"Don't ask." Beelzebub sighed. She crossed the lawn, letting her flies spread out to every flower or fruit they could find, and dropped herself into the pile of pillows.

"Why decorating the terrace first?" She asked with closed eyes. 

She could hear how Gabriel sat down as well, but more poised. "It's summer. The sun is shining, the air is still warm at night, felt like a good idea."

"Can't argue with that." She mumbled, feeling her tight muscles loosen up. 

"The cherries are almost ripe." The angel told her in a quiet tone. 

"Can't fucking wait." 

They remained in comfortable silence for a long while, just listening to the mild breeze playing with leaves, the evening songbirds reciting their best, a crow calling out in the distance. Small animals were rustling through their hedge, having found a home in there. 

"Hey, Bee, " Gabriel almost whispered, "do you remember how we met?"

"I'll never forget that." The demon answered with a breathy chuckle.

◍⊱ - - - - ⊰◍

It had all begun back in Eden, with the Archangel Gabriel being his usual condescending self that Beelzebub had known and quietly appreciated for millennia.

Gabriel had chosen to wear a white robe with no sleeves to show off his arms and indicate he was unarmed. He had bound a belt around his middle to emphasise the shape of his chest and length of his legs. He liked this body God had given him, especially the male form. Something about how those muscles looked and felt when he moved made up for the useless floppy dangly bits between his legs.

He was standing by the punched-through wall of the garden. A loophole, really, as Aziraphale had been instructed that Adam and Eve were not allowed to leave through the gates. So the guardian of the eastern one crudely created this exit instead, using physical force. This meant no miracle was being used, and therefore no automated notification about it was delivered to Gabriel's desk. On the positive side of things was the fact that Aziraphale at least knew how to restrain himself.

"Your principality has a streak of chaos in him." A voice with a strange buzz to it said behind him.

Gabriel turned around and found a demon standing there. They wore a black robe with intricate red stitchings but no belt. He couldn't tell if they had chosen a gender or not. Flies kept spawning from their long black hair and were venturing out into the holy garden. 

“Who the Hell are you?” Gabriel asked and crossed his arms, making sure his biceps would bulge.

The demon didn't appear impressed. “Wrong questions, who _in_ Hell am I.”

Both understood that they should have known each other, that they came from the same place, had the same creator, but the acceptance of ignorance was ingrained into their essence.

The catch was that while they were ignorant about their shared past, they were also very much curious about their future. 

“Lord Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, Satan’s left hand.” the demon introduced themselves, raising their chin instead of bowing. It should have been infuriating, but Gabriel found it interesting instead. 

“Quite a mouthful.” He snarked before squaring his broad shoulders and giving them what he most likely considered his best charming smile. “Archangel Gabriel, Messenger of the Lord.” 

They huffed a small, incredulous laugh in turn. Gabriel was about to pout. This was not the reaction he had expected. 

"Messenger of God, what a humble title." The demon remarked and gave him a scrutinising once-over.

"Humble?" the angel puffed up his chest. "I'm the one who delivers Her word to humanity."

Beelzebub grinned at him "And where are they now, hm?" She asked and bit into an apple.

The Messenger's face contorted in disgust. "Could you not do that?"

"What?" the demon asked with a full mouth.

"Eat." Gabriel took a step back. "So gross." 

"It's a fruit," Beelzebub pointed out while licking a droplet of juice from her finger, "it's meant to be eaten."

"Not by _us_." The angel insisted.

"I can eat whatever the Hell I want, I'm the Prince of Gluttony."

"Obviously." Gabriel laughed despite his discomfort. "I can see that."

"Ah, so your eyes can do more than just look pretty." The demon retorted and _smiled_ at him.

Gabriel was taken aback on several levels, one of them being that odd thudding of his cardiac system. "What?"

"You heard me." Beelzebub took another bite, aiming to alienate the handsome angel.

"I have to admit," the angel put a hand on his chest, "I'm disgusted but also charmed."

Now it was Beelzebub's turn to be taken aback. What was her damned heart doing? "You're weird, that's what you are."

Gabriel shrugged. "I’m just honest."

"Trying to tell me you can’t lie, oh holier than thou Archangel?" She prodded, knowing full well that angels could lie; otherwise, demons wouldn't be able to.

He shuffled a little as if preparing for a speech. "Honest and true communication is the godgiven tool required to deal with the reality of this world. Lies just break everything, one by one. So I," he pointed at himself with both thumbs, "will _never_ lie."

"How pretentious." Beelzebub groaned and ate the core of the apple.

Gabriel regarded the demon for a long moment. Something was off. Something was happening here, but he, The Messenger, had no idea how to put it into words."You’re rude and gross, so why can’t I bring myself to dislike you?" 

"You tell me." She swallowed the last bite of the apple.

The feeling was mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've done it! Half the year 2020 is dealt with. Australia on fire, Corona, locust plagues, murder hornets, war, the downfall of democracy in Hong Kong and Russia that I didn't have time to write about, and so much more. Thank you for reading, commenting and hitting kudos!
> 
> Up next: July - Business, in which we try to talk to Pollution.
> 
> See you tomorrow ❤


	13. July - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fourth Horseman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this was hardly proofread at all due to baby being baby.

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ JULY - BUSINESS ◈◇◇◇◇◇

  


**25th of July 2020:** A Japanese oil carrier struck ground in a coral reef by the coast of Mauritius.

"Can I come with you, my Lord?" Dagon asked.

Of course, she'd be invested, she always had a thing for the ocean. Beelzebub had a theory that it had something bro do with her previous design work Upstairs, before the Fall, but the thought always slipped out of her mind whenever she tried to concentrate and remember. 

All that is left was an _inkling_ that Dagon used to design fish and that she herself was meant to have something to do with orbiting.

"You can come along if you consent to the risks."

"What, the risk of punching Gabriel's pretty mug for being rude?" 

"Dagon, we're going to meet another Horseman. Gabriel already has a runny mouth as it is, all I do is damage control and keeping him from running in circles."

"That angel sure likes running. Doesn't make much sense, he has three sets of wings and all."

"Don't I know it." She chuckled. "Give me your word that you can hold it together."

"I'll just stand there and watch, my Lord." Dagon quasi promised with a small courtsy.

"Let's get moving."

A moment later the two of them emerged on a beach on the Île aux Aigrettes, a small island off the south-east coast of Mauritius. The entire islet was a nature reserve in an attempt to protect the rare wildlife and the last remaining Mauritian dry forest. 

Crabs scattered as lightning hit the sand, revealing an Archangel dressed for the location: white Bermuda shorts, white flip flops, and a grey and purple lily flower print shirt.

Beelzebub heard how Dagon was doing her best to hold back a laugh. The Prince herself had a different issue: those _calves_ , fuck.

"Oh, hello Lord of Files!" Gabriel held out his hand to shake Dagon Hand. She took it, and _squeezed_ , grinning at that almost unnoticeable sign of pain when Gabriel's brows furrowed and his left knee oh so slightly bent.

"Hi, Messenger." The scaly demon said in greeting.

"Now that I see you in person, I have a small request." Gabriel began, squeezing back. "I take it that you're responsible for all written communication between Beelzebub's office and mine?"

Dragon's nails dug in. "What of it?"

Gabriel stood his ground, increasing pressure while nonchalantly smiling his smile. "Stop adding unprofessional notes to official paperwork, asshole."

Dagon laughed and released his hand. "Don't get your feathers in a bunch, wankwings." She turned to her Prince, winking at her. "I can see why you like him."

Gabriel's brows shot up and his eyes, too, went to the Prince clad in a sleeveless white blouse with black polka dots that were stylized flies and a pair of black Bermuda shorts. No flip flops, she went barefoot, black nail polish reflecting the sun.

"I like him because he's reliable, despite being more bark than bite." Beelzebub said with rose-tinted cheeks.

"Do you want me to bite you?" The Archangel asked, making Dagon laugh even harder.

Beelzebub cleared her throat. "Fucking focus you two." She pointed towards a giant black and red ship. "There's a Horseman here we need to talk to."

"Of course, boss." The Lord of Files said in a cheeky tone.

The three of them walked across the water, heading for the aground oil tanker.

"There's a coral reef here." Dagon said, watching how the black ooze slowly blocked her view to the undersea world. All those fish, crustaceans, anemones, everything little creature that lived down there would be poisoned and die. The demon clenched her fists and tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down, but all she could smell was the stench of oil. The water under her feet sizzled and evaporated with every step.

“Keep it together, Dagon.” Beelzebub warned her friend.

They climbed the side of the tanker. When they reached the deck Pollution was easy to spot, dressed in all white on the black metal. 

"I know why you're here." The Horseman greeted them, waving a smudged hand.

"Good, good," Gabriel walked up to her, smiling brightly, "then let us cut to the chase: where the fuck is Pestilence?"

The tanker creaked dangerously under Pollution's feet. "She's using my ships." 

Beelzebub joined the conversation. "Oil carriers?"

"No." The Horseman growled. "My cruise ships. Did you know one of them pollutes as much air as five _million_ cars covering the same distance?"

"Yes, so interesting, but not the point." Gabriel commented, "Where is Pestilence?"

"You're not a very nice angel." The Horseman pointed out.

Dagon hat to bite back a laugh, while Beelzebub was getting anxious about receiving the much needed answer. She had to intervene, again.

"Pollution, we know you must be furious with the lockdowns caused by Pestilence leading to cleaner air and waters."

"I am." She confirmed, cold and harsh. "As she's using _my ships_ to infect hundreds at once."

To be precise, after the first lockdowns took place, Pollution caused five oil spills in a fit of quiet rage just within the month of March.

"We're trying to stop that. Any help for us would mean help for you."

"You think I need help?"

"We're humbly offering help." Gabriel forced himself to say. Humility wasn't really his thing, but even he had at least some respect for Horsemen.

Pollution eyed them with suspicion. The female demon with the long hair hadn't said a word but her feet were making the deck's asphalt boil. The angel was choking on his humility and the Prince at his side seemed to be his anchor to go through with it.

Celestials these days were full of surprises, so why not indulge them.

"Pestilence will go back to Europe in August, that's all I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: July - Leisure, which may or may not have flirting in it.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	14. July - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the summer time, when the weather is nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again not proofread, no time, no time. I'm sorry.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ JULY - LEISURE ◆◇◇◇◇◇

  


**28th of July 2020:** Beelzebub and Gabriel meet at the house, using the hot summer day to fix their pool.

"If her attitude were as modest as her chest, I could see it working out." The female Archangel remarked as she followed Gabriel through his clothing collection. He just took a turn to go down the aisle marked '2020s - Shirts - Casual - Single Coloured'. 

"Really, Michael?" He rolled his eyes at her and went through his third stack of grey polo shirts until he found one that had buttons exactly matching the colour of his shorts. 

"You know I'm just teasing." She tried to mollify, but his frown remained.

"Her corporation is fine." Gabriel assured her, making his way to the socks aisle. Sneaker socks, to be precise, but not the running kind. Those had their own aisle, right next to his running shoes ailes. Plural.

"Is it now." Micheal jibed. 

Gabriel looked at her in exasperation. "You do have eyes, right?"

The other Archangel snorted. Poking Gabriel was _fun_. "So you've been looking after all." 

"Michael." He growled, obviously annoyed. 

Michael sighed. The Messenger was getting more and more tetchy when it came to a particular demon. "I'm not judging you, Gabe, just remember who she is."

"Evil?" He snapped, grabbing a pair of sneakers he wouldn't mind getting dirty.

"Cut off from love." Michael clarified.

"But I --"

She held up a hand to stop him from finishing his sentence. She didn't have to protocol what she never heard in the first place. "I know. I've seen the files. Make sure she knows as well."

Maybe he should try to be a little less subtle?

An hour later, he was back at the house, brimming with motivation. 

"You're actually doing this?" Beelzebub asked, her eyes growing bigger while Gabriel carried a bucket filled with cleaning utensils passed the terrace and towards the pool.

"Doing what?" He said, setting the bucket down by the creaky ladder leading down into the pool.

"Cleaning it. By _hand_." She pointed at the walls that were supposed to be a bright blue, but were covered in deposits, some so thick that moss or algae had started to grow there. The deepest part of the pool had a puddle of mud in it, and was that a frog swimming in it?

"How am I to know that it's properly clean if I don't do it myself?" The angel asked and hopped down. "When I'm done its colour we'll be almost as beautiful as your eyes."

"What?"

"Can't be as pretty as your blue, really, it's unparalleled."

The Archangel didn't lie. She had not witnessed him utter a single lie within all those thousands of years she had dealt with him. Yes, he'd deflect and attempt humour to hide facts he didn't want the other party to show or know about, he'd talk in circles and confuse the other.

But he did not lie.

Beelzebub took a deep breath. The world didn't end, so why not use this opportunity to ask something overdue for millennia.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes," he said, casually, shamelessly, and fucking winked at her, "please bring the hose, I have to get this place wet."

"Right." She said slowly, precisely, to make sure she didn't stammer. A wave of heat rushed through her entire being as her heart picked up speed, rapidly. 

So she hadn't misread Gabriel before, countless times. She had always rationalised that he was only buttering her up, using underhanded diplomacy tactics masked as 'being nice'. 

She should have known better, considering that Gabriel wasn't a particularly nice angel, or person, to begin with. He was self-centred, narcissistic, vain and condescending. Being God's favourite, and _embracing_ it, made him talk down to everyone, mixing honesty with intentional rudeness. 

Yet, somehow, his self-indulgence was almost refreshing. He wanted this house to proof he’s better than the traitors. Regardless, he didn’t pick a prestigious modern house, not the biggest and not even the one that had a sundeck instead of a roof. 

They had agreed on a house in a middle-class corner of a small town, with a bakery down the street and a tailor up the next. Every story of the house met his _and_ her needs. Yes, there were compromises, but there was also privacy and the certainty to be welcome in this place. Whenever she arrived, he’d greet her with a smile, and not his business one. 

And now he was standing there, in their pool, wrinkling his nose as the muddy water smudged his shoes, but also pulling on purple rubber gloves to do menial, manual labour. 

To, let's be honest, create a celestial birdbath for the two of them. Letting her black wings dry in the summer sun would feel so good.

Beelzebub shook her head to focus back on the task at hand. She pulled the garden hose to the pool and handed it to the angel before climbing down the ladder herself. 

"Do you have any idea how this thing works?" Gabriel asked, fiddling with the nozzle, pressing and pulling.

"Turn the ring on it, gently, so you don't--"

Too late, the water was already blasting out and dousing the demon head to toe. 

"You wanker!" She screamed after the initial shock. 

Gabriel turned the stream off as quickly as he could, but the damage was already done. Her black hair was sticking to her face and neck, water dripping from every dark strand. Her white blouse was soaked with water, turning semi- translucent. It was clinging to her skin tightly, leaving barely anything to the imagination. The fabric clung to her small but perky breasts, revealing her nipples, erect from the cold.

Gabriel swallowed. On the one hand, she looked very enticing like this. On the other hand, she was angry, which was even more attractive. "I wouldn't call it wanking." He said, without giving his words a second thought. He rarely did.

"Semantics." Beelzebub growled and took the hose from him. Never trust an angel with water. "What do you call it then?”

"it's more like," he waved about as if fishing for the right words in the air, "controlled testing of the copulatory functions of my human body."

"Archangel," she drawled, "you do that?"

She expected a no. A clear and immediate no, but Gabriel was fucking blushing.

"Well, I have to be prepared if the occasion ever arises." He said with a one-sided shrug, scratching at his neck with the other hand.

"From Hell." Beelzebub added. Wait, did she really just say that?

The angel blinked at her. "Huh?"

It was too late to back down now, Beelzebub told herself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "If the occasion ever arises from Hell." She clarified.

"Bee, are you suggesting..?"

"The water is getting wet, Gabriel, you might as well swim." Tentatively, she moved closer. Satan, she wanted to grab those flushed cheeks so badly and pull him down for a kiss. 

The angel didn't retreat, on the contrary, he stepped into her personal space, as he had done millions of times without hesitation. Beelzebub didn't flinch, she never did, but this time she did something new. She raised her chin, not in defiance but expectation. Her eyes dropped from Gabriel's excited eyes to his bitten lip. She could feel the warmth of his hand as it hovered over her hip, almost touching her.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he lowered his head, angling it just right for--

"Hello there, new neighbours!" A male voice called from their garden gate. "Have you seen my cat?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: August - Business.
> 
> See you tomorrow ❤️


	15. August - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lets talk politics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is late and lackluster, but I was swamped with christmas preperation as now the second hard lockdown starts in germany. And baby being baby and needing an extra amount of love yesterday.
> 
> This isn't proofread either, I'm sorry.

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ AUGUST - BUSINESS ◆◈◇◇◇◇

  


**9th of August 2020:** Gabriel and Beelzebub talk human politics.

"What do you need me for here?" Beelzebub asked the Prince of Greed when she arrived in Belarus.

"Lukashenko's time is up." Mammon answered, pushing her oversized and even more overpriced sunglasses up into her hair.

Beelzebub crossed her arms. "And what do I have to do with that? His contract wasn't with my department."

"It'll turn into your problem soon enough." Mammon said, turning her eyes back to the election offices across the street. "He didn't lose the election, but he did a shoddy excuse of a job of hiding how he won."

"So?" The Prince of Gluttony pulled a brow up expectantly.

"There will be protests. You know what that means in 2020." Mammon explained, not even trying to hide her schadenfreude. 

"Pestilence." Beelzebub said with a tired groan. This pandemic just wouldn't end, not when humans always found other reasons to gather. Fighting for your freedom was at least a good reason, she, as a fallen angel, could relate.

The Prince of Greed nodded. "She'll be here soon enough, just wanted to give you a heads up."

"How generous of you, _Greed_." Beelzebub snarked.

"Oh, fuck off." Mammon replied with a lopsided smirk tugging on her Ferrari red lips. 

Lightning cracked as they both laughed, painting a villainous scene. 

"Look at that, your personal angel wants to join." The Prince of Greed said, pulling her sunglasses back down. 

"What brings you here, Gabriel?" The Prince of Gluttony asked, doing a half-hearted job at holding back her smile.

"Bee, how lovely to see you." The Archangel greeted her, beaming. "Hi, Mammon.", he added, plainly. He pointed towards the office building both demons had been observing. "Do you know what the word democracy means?"

"You surely will remind us." Mammon deadpanned. 

Gabriel rolled his shoulders, ready to give a speech. "It derives from the Greek words for 'people' and 'rule'. Now you, as royalty, could think that it means ruling over people, but - surprise! - it means that the people themselves rule. Every vote cast is a voice of a citizen, a message, to their government." 

"And Lukaschenko fucked with that." Beelzebub noted. 

"Yes," the angel confirmed, pulling finger guns on Beelzebub, "and I'm here to ensure that his people will know; that his supercilious message will spread."

"His message that he's a greedy asshole who won't budge from his quasi-dictatorship."

"Thank you, Mammon, for your insight." The Archangel said with an impudent little curtsy. 

Mammon glowered at him once more. "That sounded like an insult."

"Nah, it wasn't nearly said as offensively as I could have." Gabriel fake-placated.

Mammon's shades were pushed back up into her wavy hair to look at Beelzebub with amused eyes. "I think I now understand what you see in him."

Gabriel threw his arms in exasperation. "Why do demons keep saying that?"

"Oh, sweet summer child." The Prince of Greed chuckled. "I'll leave you two to it, the pandemic is your burden. Ta-ta."

She sank into the flames that had engulfed her feet, waving at them but jutting up her middle finger last second. 

Beelzebub tapped Gabriel's arm to make him look at the building again. "Are they really just carrying ballots out of the window and down a fucking stepladder?"

"Yes." The Messenger confirmed. "But this young man over there? He just happens to record it. What a lucky coincidence."

"Right." The remaining demon snorted, but then her tone changed. "There are so many countries using Pestilence's work for a power grab."

Gabriel nodded. "Viktor Orban in Hungary, declaring the state of emergency and that he'll rule by decree. Now he's holding his own people hostage to pressure the European Union."

"Morawiecki in Poland," the Prince of Gluttony continued, "calling the EU a second Soviet Union while he keeps pushing Poland's own constitutional court further and further down."

"China, using any excuse to snuff out protests in Hong Kong and forcing their rule of law onto the island."

"Russia." The demon said, "but it's not like Putin needed Pestilence for what he did." 

The two celestials looked at each other in quiet understanding. Humans had free will, they had the knowledge of good and evil. But sometimes a handful of them is all it needs to ruin it for millions.

"The people are distracted with the pandemic." Gabriel pointed out. "Catastrophes hit hardest when willful ignorance is involved." He snapped his fingers so another human felt the urge to pull out her phone to film what was going on. 

"Or willful stupidity." Beelzebub said with a short laugh. "Remember how Germany used to be called the Land of Poets and Thinkers?"

"Erik had sent me some reports." The Messenger's face contorted in disdain as he thought about the details. "Tragic, really, to have a country dragged down by a fascist vegan cook spouting delusional theories that all play into Pestilence's hands." 

"Must be quite the bother to unwrap the tinfoil around his phone every time he texts on Telegram." The demon jibed. Little did she know how many phones the man actually owned.

"As if Michael didn't have access to those chats." Gabriel rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. "She's probably the reason why humans think God is omnipresent."

"But just like Erik, she can't pinpoint where Pestilence is. Fucking Horsemen." Her hands tightly balled into fists. Stupid incubation period, stupid partying humans, stupid conspiracy theories egging them on to cough on each other in defiance for 'the greater good'. 

A hand gently wrapped around her clenched fist.

"Hey," the angel hushed, dragging her out of her derailing train of thought. "We'll find her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will most certainly be a short one, I have only half the time than usual to write it. 
> 
> Up next: August - Leisure
> 
> See you ~~tomorrow~~ tonight!


	16. August - Leisure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, it's late. Just woke up to feed the baby and saw that only the last three sentences were missing. 
> 
> Finished it, posted ity enjoy!
> 
> PS: Not proofread, it's almost 3AM.

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ AUGUST - LEISURE ◆◆◇◇◇◇

  


**17th of August 2020:** Two celestials take the time to paint their living room.

“What to do with the Garage?” Beelzebub mused as she rummaged through it to collect cover sheeting and tape to keep their hardwood floor clean while they’d paint the living room. 

The kitchen had been painted black after all, much to her delight. The joined living room will be painted an unnaturally clean white with one wall in a symbolic grey to accent both ends of the spectrum. This way the main living area, which Gabriel and Beelzebub would use pretty much for the same amount of time, would represent them both and their union in this house. 

“We could get a car.” Gabriel suggested.

“A _car_?” Beelzebub said incredulously. “What for? We can transport in an instant to wherever we want.” 

“To be less suspicious among our neighbours.” The angel explained and trotted behind the demon, carrying the ladder. “Also, Crowley has a car. I want a _better_ one.”

Beelzebub had to laugh. “Elon Musk still owes Mammon a small favour.”

“Let me guess,” Gabriel began, “Mammon also owes _you_ a small favour?”

She grinned. “Of course.” she draped the floor with sheeting, making sure every corner was covered. 

Gabriel followed her, taping the sheeting down. “And isn't Musk the guy who wants to colonise Mars?”

“Yes.” The demon confirmed, handing Gabriel the tape to prepare the top side of the door leading into the hallway. He didn’t utter a single word about her being short. He hasn’t done that since Bethlehem. 

“He’s trouble, that human.” The Messenger said. Humans weren’t supposed to be on Mars, but now that the world didn’t end, who knew what else was going to happen. 

“I know.” Beelzebub huffed, covering the broad window sills. They were wide enough to serve as a bank. 

Gabriel stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “Can we get a purple car?”

She rolled her eyes. “Gift horse, mouth, don’t be greedy.” She should have known he’d ask for that colour, he always did. 

Once the room was prepared to not end up to be the same mess the kitchen had turned into, they popped the paint lids open to stir. In at least the attempt to keep her clothes clean Beelzebub rolled up her sleeves. She was entirely clueless about the effect the simple act had on the angel. Gabriel bit his lip, trying to keep his eyes from going back to her lower arms over and over. 

Two can play that game, he thought to himself and changed his clothes with the snap of his fingers. A stretchy tight lavender t-shirt and grey sweat trousers were his weapon of choice and judging by the course of Beelzebub’s eyes and the colour of her cheeks it was a hit. 

"Those trousers hide _nothing_ , Gabriel." She stated, waving at the general direction of his crotch.

The Archangel shrugged, making his shirt’s fabric strain over his pecs. "This is the body God has given me. There is nothing to hide."

"She obviously gave you the big dick to match your character." Beelzebub jibed, feeling bold.

Gabriel dipped his paint roller into the bucket of ‘Almighty White’. "I'm not entirely sure if that's an insult or a compliment."

The demon shook her head. There was a question on her tongue begging to be asked. “Did you ever use it?” Again, a wave towards his groin.

“Use it?” Gabriel asked with a frown. “For?”

“Pleasure, not just for show.” Beelzebub put her roller to the lower part of the wall as Gabriel was painting the upper sections she couldn’t reach.

“No.” The angel said. Of course, he was an agent of the Lord, he wouldn’t-- “But I can't deny that I haven't been curious.”

Gabriel valued honesty, so why not share. “We have that in common, angel.”

The angel looked at her with disbelief. “You've never..?”

“I’m not one of Lust’s succubi.” She said a little more snappy than intended. “I'm a busy Prince of Gluttony. I use my mouth, not my … you know." A third time her gaze wandered to his crotch, and she couldn’t help herself, she licked her lips. Her mind created an image of herself sitting on an armchair in this living room, sprawling on it like it was her throne, and Gabriel offering his precum dripping cock like a treat. She'd suck him in a heartbeat.

“And I'm the Messenger of God, the purpose of my mouth is to _deliver_.” Gabriel told her without taking his eyes off the wall.

Well, there was another image. Again, she was sitting on the armchair with her legs spread open, but this time the angel was kneeling in front of her, putting his mouth to good use on her sex.

“Did you,” Gabriel began, sounding uncharacteristically shy, “Did you ever want to try?”

Beelzebub stopped painting and turned to Gabriel. "Are you _tempting_ me?"

Gabriel, too, stopped, letting the roller hang by his side, white droplets hitting the sheeting. "Please, I'm an angel, the angel." He held a hand to his chest. After a moment's thought, he had to add something else, but quieter. "Just showing you the options."

"Let me rephrase." The demon said, the job at hand forgotten. "Are you flirting with me?" She took a step closer, locking her eyes with his. 

"Bee, I already told you the answer to that." His free hand reached for her arm, guiding her even closer. "The real question is: Are _you_ flirting with _me_?"

She ignored his hand and reached up, pushing against his chest until his back hit the wall. Fucking cheeky angel, he was smiling at her all smug. He like this, being pushed back. A hand of his lay on her hips, showing a little more subtly how he didn't mind that she stepped between his legs. 

Beelzebub wanted to lick between those lips and taste his tongue. Gabriel's eyes shone with excitement when he pulled her even closer and leaned down. He could feel the demons hot breath on his skin when they were a mere inch apart. His hand slipped further down, cupping her rear to press her against his--

The doorbell rang, making the two celestials jump apart. 

"That'd be the kitchen installers." Gabriel announced in an enticingly husky voice despite having just cleared his throat.

"I'll get it." Beelzebub stammered and made her way to the door.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: September - Business
> 
> See you tomorrow ❤️


	17. September - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florida Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took yesterday off from writing to take care of myslef and then wrap some presents. Here is another late chapter, and this one was written within an hour, maybe two.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ SEPTEMBER - BUSINESS ◆◆◈◇◇◇

  


**29th of September 2020:** The global death toll for COVID19 related deaths hit 1 million.

"Why are we meeting on a beach? In _Florida_ , of all places?” Beelzebub asked. Despite the pandemic, the coast was crowded with half-naked people and some naked ones, drinking, eating, celebrating and enjoying the late summer days.

"Because of Florida Man." One of the four Eriks said. All of him were wearing a different pair of swim trunks in various shades of black and grey, but, most importantly, all of the present Erik were busy building a sandcastle. 

"He should have informed us about the dress code." Gabriel complained with a click of his tongue and snapped his fingers. His light grey suit vanished, getting replaced by white pair of swim trunks with … a _lavender_ pattern? 

"Show off." Beelzebub huffed. Gabriel's swimwear tended to be a snug fit. She had gotten used to it after seeing it multiple times at the house when he was enjoying their pool and splashing about with his wings like the big manchild he was.

A stupidly attractive manchild that was _packing_. 

"Who is this Florida Man?" The Messenger asked, pushing dark purple sunglasses onto his nose. 

"A meme -" the same Erik began.

"A concept, really. Something about the local way police reports are filed -" the second Eril explained, hitting the castle wall with a small orange plastic shovel.

"A public testament to the possible excesses of idiocy a human can reach. "The third Erik said, digging the moat a little deeper.

"And what has this Florida Man done?" Beelzebub demanded to know.

Erik number four stopped pushing seashells into the side of a tower and looked up at them with a pained expression. "Everything."

With a wave of the first demon's hand, his Prince and the Archangel held a report each. "I know it's not one person -"

"But I think he needs to be stopped -" the second Erik continued.

"One way or another." the third stated, with a sinister expression on his face. 

Gabriel cocked a brow, curious. He opened the file and found cut out newspaper pieces and printed web pages of whatever was deemed 'news' these days and read the first headline. "Florida Man Arrested For Robbery Using Corona Cough As Weapon".

Beelzebub stepped closer to the angel instead of opening her own file and read the next. "Florida Man That Sold Toxic Miracle Covid19 Cure Arrested"

Gabriel read another one, "Florida Ma Refused To Wear A MAsk. Then Coughed, Sneezed, Spit all Over Best Buy Store"

"Florida MAn Uses Covid19 as Defense in Domestic Violence Case" 

"How the fuck?" Beelzebub asked, taking the file from Gabriel's hands. "A 34-year-old Palm Beach County woman woke up startled and found her boyfriend and father of her young child hovering over her. He said he had visions of God and needed to remove the demon within her, according to a sheriff's report. Luis Suriel then struck her at least three times with a belt, leaving deep welts, deputies said. Now Suriel's attorney and family say that his erratic behaviour was caused by COVID-19, resulting in a fever that made him delusional with hallucinations."

Gabriel took the file back. "First of all: God doesn't do visions, that is _my_ job, and I've never heard of this guy, never had a message for him."

"I'd say Wrath has one for him now." Beelzebub said with a sadistic smirk. 

They kept reading and found reports of Florida Man licking things in public, refusing to wear masks, groups of people partying through stores singing songs of freedom and masklessness.

"There is also the pro-corona movement getting traction now." The first and somehow lead Erik said. 

"The what now?" Gabriel slapped the file shut. Beelzebub remained close by his side. Maybe he could talk her into taking a dip in the ocean after the briefing? She could wear that bathing suit again that was half made of fishnet, he liked that one. 

"The pro-corona movement wants to infect everyone." The forth Erik, the one building a bridge with popsicle sticks, explained. 

"So they throw huge parties, hug and kiss." The third Erik said, still busy with the moat. 

"Once everyone had Covid, they'd be immune." The second Erik finished.

"And millions would be dead." Beelzebub growled. The death toll was ramping up each day, her demons will end up with carpal tunnel syndrome from all the paperwork. 

"We already are at a million humans who've died from Covid." Gabriel added, equally annoyed as worried.

"One million people whose time wasn't up yet." Another voice chimed in from behind them.

"Says who?" Beelzebub snapped. Someone had the gall to eavesdrop on them! 

"Me." 

The Archangel and the Prince turned around and _flinched_. Before them stood a tall skeletal wearing nothing but unnaturally black speedos stretching over his pelvic bones and sunglasses in the same shade that stayed in place without ears. 

“Death, what brings _you_ here?” Gabriel asked with straightened shoulders. 

"Pestilence had her fun, now it's getting ridiculous." He lifted his bony hand and drank from a black cup that smelled of the strongest and blackest coffee Beelzebub had ever encountered. This brew surely would kill any human. "As if I hadn't enough on my hands already."

"Will you help us?" The Lord of Flies asked, optimistically.

"Of course not," Death said, "but I'm rooting for you." He held up a thumb, then turned around and just casually strolled away, as if he took a long walk on the beach all the time.

The Eriks looked at each other. "Only in Florida, man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: September - Leisure, the year in nearing its end, maybe those two will finally get it together and smooch?
> 
> See you ~~tomorrow~~ tonight!


	18. September - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dig!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fell asleep before finishing this. Again. Cuddling with babies makes you sleepy like nothing else. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ SEPTEMBER - LEISURE ◆◆◆◇◇◇

  


**30th of September 2020:** Gabriel is annoying. Beelzebub indulges him.

"Bee, what the Hell?" Gabriel called out from the small balcony of his office upstairs which he was currently setting up. 

"What?" The demon called back, wiping her forehead and smudging mud all over it. "I'm pulling my weight here."

Gabriel leaned onto the railing with his forearms. "At least you look like you were having fun." 

"To be frank, I did have fun." The demon affirmed, wiping her dirty hands on the bib of her black dungaree. 

The Lord of Flies had busied herself with digging up the garden all morning, laying out the flower beds. It was the last day of September, so planting anything wasn't the best idea, but being prepared for Spring was always a good idea. But then again winters on the British Islands were mild, maybe a few flowers would survive?

"Also, Bee, seriously?!" Gabriel asked, pointing at her work. 

She crossed her arms and raised her head in challenge. "I'm a demon, Gabriel, in case you have forgotten."

“It’s a _pentagram_!”

"I know!" Beelzebub gleefully confirmed. "And it's perfectly even. I just need some stones to carve sigils and lay them in a pattern. I could threaten every slacking demon with a summoning. I might even let you glower at them and do your fancy sparkles so they think you'd smite them."

Gabriel, offended, huffed at her. "Fancy sparkles? It's called _divine lightning_!" To emphasise his point, he let it crackle around his arms. "And you just want to scare your underlings. Which is basically all of Hell, except Satan."

"Yes," She said smugly. "And believe me, I can scare Satan, too."

"Kinda sexy." Gabriel admitted. "What kind of flowers will you plant there?"

"None, it's too late for that." She sniffed. Her flies had loved the summer here, going from one bloom to another. She really should have put some effort into the garden earlier, but there was so little time. Also, now that the living room was all set up, just lounging there and eating snacks while Gabriel did yoga was the most relaxing yet frustrating thing she didn't want to miss.

The angel manifested his wings and glided off the balcony. "It's never too late to plant flowers. There are some blooming, even during winter. You just need to know what to look for."

"And you're the expert, Mr Lillies-and-Lavender?" Beelzebub teased and eyed him with a decent portion of scepticism.

"Lilies are what humans associate with me. Lavender is what I like, personally. Not only does it come in several shades of purple, but the scent is relaxing, a sniffable 'Fear not!', so to speak." Gabriel explained and circled around the pentagram flower beds. "How about black slate plates for the centre and insides of the star's spikes?"

Beelzebub shook her head. "I was thinking granite; it has to withstand intense fire."

Ah, so she was serious about the summonings. "Can I scare them and douse them in water when they arrive?"

"Only if you pull all your wings out and shout at them as well."

Gabriel laughed, a sadistic smile creeping into his face. "Deal." 

Living together would be _fun_. What a strange thought.

"Hey, we could go to the garden centre tomorrow if you are available?" The Archangel suggested. He still wanted to test that car that Mammon had requested from Musk. It had the most gorgeous matte metallic purple paint job. Thankfully it pretty much drove itself.

"Why not today?" Beelzebub asked and snapped her fingers, getting rid of all the dirt and changing her black t-shirt for a red victorian cut blouse with wide sleeves and ruffles around her neck and wrists. She kept the black dungaree, though, but the outfit was still incredibly appealing to Gabriel.

"I only have about an hour left before I meet with Sandalphon to explain to him why turning the entire US into salt is a bad idea."

The Prince of Gluttony cringed. "Who needs Horsemen when you have that guy." Sometimes she wondered if he and Wrath used to work together. 

"But," Gabriel began with a grin, "I have no appointments tomorrow. I had planned to spend the day here. We could get you some flowers and maybe two of those angel statues, and then paint one wing set black."

The demon scrunched her nose. "That sounds awfully like kitsch."

The angel’s grin intensified. “They'd be our _gard'ning_ angels.”

Beelzebub shuddered. "One day someone will discorporate you for your dumb puns."

"But it won't be you, Bee." Gabriel said in between fits of laughter. "You like them. And _me_ , I guess.”

"I do." The demon revealed with a growl. Gabriel wouldn't be the same without his stupid wordplays he was oh so proud of. 

"So, uhm, I was wondering… Want to go exploring the area?" The angel asked, looking fidgety all of a sudden. She knew that tick and what it meant. The blunt angel was holding back words.

She regarded him, secretly enjoying to see him squirm a little. "You look like you need to say something, Messenger."

"You're beautiful." He blurted, looking so relieved once the words were spoken out loud. 

Well, that was unexpected. "And you're a _fool_." Beelzebub said, not quite sure how to react to compliments like that. She might have to get used to them if she wanted to spend more time here and be closer to Gabriel. And she really wanted that.

"I'm just being honest." The angel said, shrugging her small insult off.

Beelzebub rolled her eyes. "Those two things happen to go hand in hand."

"What a coincidence." He said, all smug. "I want to go hand in hand with you."

A rush of heat filled the demon's cheeks. "Ok, that pun was smooth, I'll give you that."

"I heard there's an old orchard not too far from here." With windfall fruits all over the ground by now, a feast for her flies, Gabriel added internally.

His fingers were twitching by the side of his thighs, curling into a loose fist, relaxing when he took a deep breath. So he had been nervous after all. Beelzebub reached for his hand and was blinded by a broad and bright smile.

She should have felt disgusted, but she was absolutely charmed. "Doesn't change that you're a fool." She mumbled.

"Nor that you're beautiful." Gabriel retorted and started to lead the way.

"Oh, shut up." Despite her words, she squeezed his hand. He, the Messenger of God, was taking her, Satan's Left hand, _by her left hand _, on a walk.__

__"What do you say about red lavender for the pentagram?" He asked her, dragging her out of her looping thoughts._ _

__"It comes in red?"_ _

__"Yes." Gabriel's thumb was stroking the back of her hand. "And considering what this house represents, why not put a little me into you."_ _

__Oh, _fuck_._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red lavender ist real, google it. I want some. Badly. 
> 
> Up next: October - Business
> 
> See you later!


	19. October - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Space!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, a chapter posted the day it is supped to! Wohooo! There weren't any big news in October, so I went for something different. I hope you like it.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ OCTOBER - BUSINESS ◆◆◆◈◇◇

  


**6th of October 2020:** Three scientists have been awarded the 2020 Nobel Prize in Physics for work to understand black holes: Sir Roger Penrose, Reinhard Genzel and Andrea Ghez.

"Someone please make them stop!" Gabriel whined. “God is _not_ amused!” He dropped his phone onto the table. 

Beelzebub, Michael and all of Erik looked at him. 

"Stop fiddling with your phone during meetings, it's rude." Beelzebub chastised. 

"Bee, with all due respect I have for you, and you know that is _a lot_ , I'm definitely not ignoring God when She texts me." He said and sunk into his chair. 

"What are you on about, anyway?" She asked. Better to resolve this now and have everyone fully focus back on finding Pestilence instead of Gabriel ruffling their feathers all afternoon. 

"First, they found hints of life on Venus in September, which was a total shitshow to cover up and manipulate their readings over and over, but now they are back onto black holes." He threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling. "At least Mammon keeps her eyes on Musk and his obsession with Mars. His car is fun, by the way."

"We can't make them stop, Gabriel, we can only distract them." Michael told him calmly. 

"Those scientists are usually too single-minded to be bribed or tempted, I'm afraid." Beelzebub explained. "And putting a stop to human curiosity? Not really what Hell is supposed to do."

“They will _go places_ , Bee. God wants to keep them here, where She can watch over them."

"Like an overbearing mother." The Prince of Gluttony quickly cut in. 

"Some people actually like Her, you know."

"To each their own." She took a deep breath to keep an age-old anger from boiling up. If she wanted to live with Gabriel, she'd have to tolerate his love for Her. Some point in the past he had made a choice and that choice meant for his wings to remain white and his halo to shine for millennia, untarnished. He was more than just an angel. He was a total prick, an arrogant and vain asshole, but also so very patient and underhandedly caring when it came to Beelzebub herself. 

One could think he loved her, too. 

As that thought hit her, she dropped her thick sharpie and felt all blood draining from her face before it quickly forced itself back in there with hard and loud thumps of her heart. Her corporation was starting to sweat.

"You ok, Bee?" Gabriel asked, honest concern visible in his beautiful eyes. 

"Yes." She croaked, unable to draw her own eyes away from his purple ones. "You don't have to worry, by the way, humans are still leagues away from figuring out how my black holes work."

“ _Your_ black holes?” The Archangel's brows shot up.

"Did I say that?" Beelzebub felt a stinging headache for a second. 

"You did." One Erik said. 

" _Your_ black holes." A second one added. 

"Yours, my Lord?" The third and last asked. 

"Yes.", she affirmed, without thinking; thinking about it _hurt_. "No." she then quickly corrected, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Just… a gut feeling."

"I'd trust the gut feeling of the Prince of Gluttony." Gabriel said. "Hey, aren't black holes literal space gluttons?"

The three of Erik looked at each other and quickly nodded in union. 

"Gabriel." Michael said in a low but warning tone.

Beelzebub was already massaging his temples. No one was supposed to remember a damn thing from before the Fall. That slip of her tongue shouldn't have been possible in the first place. Maybe Armageddon was meant to be the due date for this effect and it was slowly wearing off?

But as usual, ambivalence set in. "Anyway," Beelzebub began, distracting herself subconsciously from a forbidden memory and consciously from the way her heart kept pounding whenever she looked at the Messenger, "we're at 36 million cases. The northern hemisphere is getting colder, humans now turn to party inside again, leading to an easy game for the virus to spread."

"Get Abbadon on it. Cold days are perfect for snuggling up on the sofa, drinking tea, binge-watching the Net of Flix." Gabriel suggested. If people would be too lazy to organize a party, they'd surely stay put.

"Pushing the Prince of Sloth to work overtime?" Beelzebub laughed. 

"Challenge accepted." The Archangel said and rolled his shoulders as if getting ready for a fight. "I'll talk him into it."

"Gabriel, even I find you exhausting on a good day." Beelzebub said with an indulgent smirk. "Good luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: October - Leisure, back to gardening.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	20. October - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers and yelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was planned to be something entirely else, but this needed to happen, I guess?
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ OCTOBER - LEISURE ◆◆◆◆◇◇

  


**7th of October 2020:** Beelzebub and Gabriel return from their trip to the garden centre .

“They kept mistaking me for your _wife_!” Beelzebub growled as she got out of the car in their garage. “I don’t belong to anyone, not even to King Satan. I am my own person, for fucks sake.”

“Is that why you insisted on paying for the flowers?” Gabriel asked across the car’s roof. There was a lot more to unpack here, but better begin small. 

The demon slammed the door shut. “Yes.”

“By the way, Bee, it’s the United Kingdom, you can’t pay with Euro.”

“It was meant as an insult!” She shouted and threw up her arms. 

“About that wife thing, though,” Gabriel began as he opened the trunk to unload the plants. Christmas rose, blotau, red hylotelephium, heather. All in all a mix of red and white to brighten their garden until spring came and offered a ton more options. Red lavender hadn’t been available, and the poor saleswoman didn’t even know it existed. ‘The flowers look like big, dark raspberries with petals sticking out at the top like little wings.’ Gabriel had explained, ‘She really likes raspberries.’ he continued while pointing at Beelzebub by his side who looked ready to set the venus fly trap stand on fire. ‘I can order some for your misses, sir.’ the saleswoman had said, and Gabriel felt wafts of heat rolling off the Prince’s body. The woman remained oblivious to the imminent threat and suggested to get blueberry bushes if ‘your wife was into berries'. Planting them in October was no issue for them. 

“Marriage is not only deemed holy, Archangel, but it’s glorified possessiveness. I will not be owned and bound. I’m a free demon, I have my loyalties and even some friendships, but I will _not be bound_.” She angrily grabbed a tray of flowers and marched into the garden, leaving singed footprints on the grass. 

Gabriel grabbed the rest and left the angel status in the car for now and followed her. “Bee, marriage is a voluntary and usually public celebration of just that, of loyalty. At least, nowadays.”

“To create peer pressure through a social network of guests to stay together.” With a snap of her fingers her current clothes burst into flames and were replaced by her usual gardening attire, the t-shirt and dungaree. No shoes this time, she needed to feel the dirt under her feet, to ground herself. She knew she was overreacting, but the whole topic had always rubbed her the wrong way. 

“Bee, the guests are the witnesses for their vows. They are friends and family, sharing that special moment with them, creating a memory together.” Gabriel handed the demon her spade.

“You don’t need witnesses to know you’ll love someone for ages.” She retorted and focused her eyes on the moist soil. She didn’t need witnesses to know her infatuation for Gabriel had lasted for more than six thousand years, ever since she’d met him in Eden insulting her in the weirdest adorable way. 

And now they shared a house, adding another thick layer to their already complicated relationship. 

Gabriel remained quiet for a moment and just watched her, the tense back muscles, how her hands clenched around the spade’s handle. Her black hair was blocking his view, he couldn’t see her eyes, but the hard line of her flattened lips told him enough.

“Is this about the bible?” He asked, making sure his tone was calm and wouldn’t be misunderstood as accusatory. 

The demon got down on her knees and set up the bright red blotau in one of the pentagram's spikes. “No.” She said, then growled. “Maybe.” She spat. “Why the fuck was there a bible in my bed’s nightstand?”

“Only in one of them.” Gabriel offered as an answer. 

Beelzebub got back up on her feet, took the spade and held it more like a weapon. “You better start making sense.”

“I'm not going to sleep in the bed, Bee, don't worry.” The angel said and held up his hands, but he didn’t retreat. “Though, usually one picks a side of the bed, and the right side would be mine if I were to use it. You’re left-handed and tend to doze off on the left side.”

Beelzebub’s grip on the handle loosened for a second, but more thanks to confusion than appeasement. “You thought about sharing a bed with me?” She asked, brows drawn together, trying to understand what the implications were here. 

“More or less. I could just relax there and read or do some paperwork on my laptop if you allow me to. The bible was not meant to insult you or cause any harm.”

Beelzebub slowly lowered her spade. “Is your bible part of your experiment at being better?” She inquired in an icy voice. 

“Experiment?” The angel asked incredulously. “Nothing about this,” he gestured between himself and the angry demon Prince, “is an _experiment_.”

“Explain what it is, then, because I’m fucking lost by now.” She rammed the tool into the ground and crossed her arms defiantly. 

“Long answer or short answer?” Gabriel asked with a smile.

“You can _do_ short?” 

“Right.” Gabriel sighed. “Ok.” He loosened his tie a little and took a deep breath. ”Here's the thing, Aziraphale was enjoying his corporation for thousands of years, and God didn't give a fuck, not a peep. Even when he was frolicking about with Crowley. So I thought, maybe, I could take a chance. I could, possibly, stay here. Not just pop in and out, but _stay_ here, in this physical body, at this house, enjoying a good jog and hot showers and muscle aches and, if I got lucky, you.”

“Me?” Beelzebub's arms dropped to her side. What was he implying here?

“Bee, listen.” Despite knowing he could lose a hand, Gabriel reached out and pushed a strand of black hair behind Beelzebub’s ear. “This isn't just an earthly office with extras. I want this to be an actual residence, a safe haven we can always go to and unwind. For both of us.”

Beelzebub’s eyes flicked between his, still not letting herself believe that this wasn’t just a project to stroke Gabriel’s ego. Yet, the signs were there, the location, the furniture, the black bathtub, he even had designed the damn drapes of the bed they were arguing about. He had painted the kitchen black and arranged everything to get dark red marble countertops. He had brought back apples from the orchard when he was jogging in September and watched her eat them disgusted but _happy_.

But while Beelzebub had enjoyed every moment here, she still didn't know what all of it meant, even after the angel had admitted to flirting with her, twice. She bit her lower lip, hard, trying to come up with a defined question to get the answer she needed, but she couldn’t find the right words. Words were Gabriel's thing, so he probably would like to hear her articulate her feelings. But why was it so hard, why was there a lump in her throat? 

Gabriel smiled at her, his expression honest and open like a book. His hand went from her hair to her shoulder, gently resting there. "If you want me to back off, you can always tell me."

Oh, no. No, no, no!

She grabbed him by the back of his neck and hastily pulled him down into a rough kiss, lips pressed against each other too tightly. It was a fumbly act of desperation, hoping against hope that she hadn’t misread the signs. Gabriel’s other arm shot up, and Beelzebub got ready to be pushed away, but he wrapped it around her back, coaxing her to stand flush against him. He squeezed her shoulder, reassuringly, helping her to release a bit of tension. 

Slowly, he could feel her melt against him. Gabriel changed the angle and tentatively let the tip of his tongue touch her lips. With the most unbecoming sound a demon could make she keened. She opened her mouth and let herself _taste_ the angel. Fuck, how long had she wanted to do this? She held onto him as she felt her knees buckle, which didn't stop her from deepening the kiss even further. 

“Fear not.” Gabriel whispered against her lips, in-between kisses, "Fear not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: November - Business, more politics.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	21. November - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven Princes and an Archangel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be 500 words and quick and now it's 5PM on the 22nd. Fuck.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ NOVEMBER - BUSINESS ◆◆◆◆◈◇

  


**12th of November 2020:** Election officials have certified Joe Biden as the winner of the U.S. Presidential election, yet Donald J. Trump refuses to accept defeat..

“There are _six_ of you here, wow.” Gabriel said instead of a greeting that'd be more applicable when faced with Hell's collective royalty. 

"Fuck you, too." The Prince of Pride retorted and fixed their lipstick. 

"Thank you for coming." Beelzebub said and gestured for him to take a seat next to her.

"That's Sloth's chair." The Prince of Envy, Berith, quipped. 

Gabriel unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down. "I don't see him, now it's mine."

"Fair is fair." The Prince of Greed said, shrugged, and ordered another ridiculously overpriced cappuccino. 

All Princes were here, in Mar A Lago, dressed in their finest human business attire. Their goal was to help the current president of the United States accept that he had lost the election, to publicly admit it, so the world can move on. Incidents of Wrath, Pride and Envy were on a drastic rise, not to mention Greed. People were gathering all over the place to demonstrate and protest, leading to more infections, more deaths, more _paperwork_. So the Princes of Hell decided to go talk to the source of it all, directly, with no duke or agent of Hell in between, and end it. 

Unfortunately, Donald Trump was every level of the word 'unreasonable'.

Gabriel took a look around the table, seeing every Prince either annoyed, angry, or plain exhausted. "Let me guess, he actually is in the books of all of you."

"Yes," Beelzebub said, "but I'm also here to keep an eye on things, having us all together could be… volatile."

"Right." Gabriel said, remembering certain encounters throughout the ages. "Just out of curiosity, what's everyone's issue with him?"

Leviathan, the Prince of Wrath, forcefully stabbed his cheesecake, sending crumbs flying. "He incites violence among an educated nation like no one else."

The Prince of Pride Mephistopheles delicately dabbed at their mouth with a napkin. "Most of the said violence is based on blatant racism." They folded the napkin and put it back down next to their plate. "Also, he fires anyone who criticizes him and he lies about his achievements, inflates numbers, smears competitors without any restraint whatsoever only to boost his own ego."

"I don't think _I_ need to explain." Mammon cackled. "But, there is a twist. He's in deep shit if he doesn't get re-elected because he's debt-ridden like no one else. He can tweet on his dumb golden toilet all he wants, his ass still might end up on the street."

Asmodeus licked his sundae's spoon clean. "I don't mind that he slept with porn stars, but the way he treated the women who took part in beauty pageants? The way he promotes sexism at any given time? Disgusting."

Berith, the Prince of Envy, sighed. "He's a big manchild who's basically throwing a tantrum costing him millions because Joe Biden' stole his presidency'. He's mentally a five-year-old when it comes to competitions." 

"And what is Sloth's reason to call dibs on his soul?" Gabriel asked, turning to Beelzebub. 

"He goes golfing whenever real work needs to be done."

"Procrastination, then?"

"Who said he eventually does his work?"

"Right." Gabriel deadpanned. "Bee," he began, smiling too sweetly at her for the other Princes not to collectively roll their eyes at him, "what's your beef with the human?"

"He sleeps in the finest hotels that own the most exquisite restaurants, and he always orders junk food to his room." She explained, poking around in her bowl of strawberries. "On top of that, he does that while millions of Americans don't know how to feed their children during this pandemic." 

"This is a first-world country." Gabriel pointed out.

"But he refuses to redirect tax money to feed those in need. Can't have socialism here." Mammon said and scanned the menu for the most expensive piece of cake.

"Unchecked capitalism will solve the issue all by itself, surely some money will magically trickle down from your boy Bezos." The Prince of Envy coldly snarked at her fellow Prince. 

Millennia old demon that she was, Mammon simply stuck out her tongue in response.

Wrath shook his head at them. "And, Satan forbid, he'd never take funds away from the military."

"Or the funds providing the police with military equipment." Mephistopheles added, their eyes dark and sinister. 

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, getting into a more comfortable position to secretly let his knee brush against Beelzebub's under the table. He let his eyes roam the six present Princes, mentally placing a bet. "Did he have a contract with any of you to win the election four years ago?"

"No," Berith answered, looking downright appalled. 

"Humans just wanted a wanker who'd shake things up." Leviathan added, waving his fork about since there was no more cake to stab. "Well, they got what they bloody wanted."

Abbadon strolled back into the café, shoulders slouched in defeat, dragging his Chucks on the ground. "I hate this guy." He mumbled and grabbed himself a chair from the neighbouring table and sat on it backwards to lean his forehead on the backrest. "I start a sentence, he interrupts me after three words to ramble on and on and on about his conspiracies." 

"I assume you had no success, either?" Beelzebub asked. Sloth had been Hell's seventh and last attempt at getting through to the president. 

"No," Sloth admitted, "I don't think anyone can talk sense I to him."

Ah, there was his queue. The Archangel cleared his throat and put on his winning smile. "That's why I'm here." 

"I thought you're here to pay Gluttony's bill." Greed jabbed at him with a smirk. 

"Technically the Vatican would be paying, and no, I'm not paying for her gross matter." He waved the suggestion off. "Is there anything I should know about before chatting him up on the golf course?"

"Do it as a female." Mephistopheles suggested. Their androgynous appearance had done nothing but confuse and aggravate the president. 

"Right, because he listens to them." Asmodeus interjected and rolled his eyes. 

"At least you'd get his attention and can work from there." Abaddon said with a languid wave of his arm. 

Berith nodded, then added. "Dress sharp and sexy."

Asmodeus held up his hand. "But not too sexy or he'll barely treat you like a human."

"And don't dress too smart or he'll instantly distrust you. The man can't stand intellectual women." Mammon explained and dug into her chocolate laden cake. 

"Don't use long sentences." Leviathan recommended, "Or big words."

"Guys," placates, "you're basically telling me to just be pretty and say please."

The princes looked at each other, then, one by one, they all nodded. "Yeah."

"And if I go there as a man?" Gabriel asked. He'd very much prefer staying the way he was.

"Looking like that? Talking like yourself?" Beelzebub smirked at him.

"Of course." Gabriel enjoyed this body, the muscles, the presumed strength, even a beard when it was in fashion. He also liked the way Beelzebub looked at it. 

The Lord of Flies huffed a laugh. "He'll hate your guts and will try to fire you."

"I don't work for him." Gabriel retorted. He only worked for God Herself. 

Leviathan flicked cake crumbs at him from across the table. "He doesn't care unless you're his son-in-law."

"Or give him copious amounts of money while simultaneously crawling up his ass." Mammon added, smiling sadistically. 

The Archangel cringed. "I'd have to lie for that." He stood up, mentally carding through his comparatively small catalogue of female clothing. "Woman it is, then." 

With a snap of his fingers he changed. Not just his figure, but also his clothes. Before the Seven Princes of Hell stood a tall and fit female version of Gabriel sporting grey high rise hot pants that somehow still had a neat crease in the front. Paired with that were knee-high white socks and purple golf shoes, topped with a lavender coloured v-neck sweater that looked far too soft and revealed just the right amount of cleavage. 

Beelzebub choked on her fruit. Those _thighs_ , oh Satan!

"Look at that, I got the shade of my nail polish right first try!" Gabriel said in his usual condescending and overly chipper tone, but with a different voice. 

The Prince of Pride giggled, to the horror of everyone else.

Two and half games of Yahtzee later, the Messenger returned, shoes angrily squeaking on the marble floor. "What an asshole, no wonder he has an entire planet's population dancing in the streets when he got voted out of office." He was gesturing animatedly before balling his hands into fists, sparks of lightning zapping all the way up to his elbows. 

"Case closed," he spat, clicking his fingers, "Heaven wants nothing to do with him." Gabriel’s chest broadened, his face returned to feature his chiselled chin. Let humans sort this one out themselves.” His now deeper voice growled. "He's the rudest and most ignorant human I've ever met, and I've met thousands, if not millions." 

Beelzebub was on her feet. "Calm down, Gabriel." She grabbed his hands and clasped them between hers in an attempt to ground him.

"I really want to smite him." The Messenger hissed and leaned his forehead against the demon’s. 

The Prince of Wrath slapped the table. "Do it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: November - Leisure
> 
> See you later!


	22. November - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written within roughly two hours.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ NOVEMBER - LEISURE ◆◆◆◆◆◇

  


**23rd of November 2020:**

It was Monday morning. Monday mornings were no time for business in Hell since humans hated this particular time of the week enough as it was, no intervention needed.

It was a Monday morning after a stressful weekend filled with hearings in her throne room, several meetings with several Erik, and a broken coffee machine on top of some lowlife demon stealing Beelzebub's hazelnut-caramel-syrup from the communal kitchen. 

She had gracefully told everyone to go fuck themselves once all papers were signed and used her recently finished summoning pentagram to get back to the house.

For a moment, she just stood there, in the garden, with her eyes closed, and let her flies scatter. The flowers Gabriel had helped her pick out were, as promised by him, blooming even in November and some of them would continue all the way into spring. She took a deep breath of cold air, smelling the flowers, the wet soil, the Sunday roast a neighbour was preparing. Birds were chirping, a dog was barking at a laughing child. 

Beelzebub released her breath, feeling herself relax. She pulled out her key, unlocked the front door and pulled off her shoes at the entrance. With her feet almost bare in her fishnet socks, she walked past the kitchen she still had to stock and up the stairs. 

The demon was too tired to close the curtains in the bedroom and just left her clothes in a heap beside the bed and crawled in, curling up in the soft black cotton sheets. She was out like a light within minutes.

Several hours later she woke up to footsteps. She peeked her eyes open and was greeted by the sight of Gabriel in the soft morning light. 

Naked.

He was on his way to his dressing room, smelling all clean and lavender from a fresh shower. But the angel didn't even cover himself with a towel.

"Morning." She mumbled and rubbed at her eyes.

"Oh," the angel stopped on his tracks. "Good morning, Bee." 

Gabriel stood there, in front of her bed, waving at her. Naked.

"You have no shame, do you?" The demon asked, syllables drawled from sleep.

"Why should I?" He frowned at her and went on his way. "Clothes, to me, are more like colours added to an already lovely canvas." 

"You're one weird angel, Gabriel." Beelzebub called out and fished for her underwear on the ground.

"Says the cuddly demon." He retorted. There were eight throw pillows on that bed. Eight. All of them in hell-ish designs with goat skulls, flames, pentagrams and the like. 

One of said pillows was thrown in the general direction of the dressing room door. “Fuck off.” She growled into three more pillows. This was comfy. 

A moment later there was a hand in her hair, ruffling it. She looked up from her plush nest and found Gabriel smiling at her. “I have breakfast for you.” He said, placed a kiss on her forehead, and left through the bedroom door. 

“Breakfast?” She jolted upright, jumped out of the bed and pulled up her suit trousers. "Did you really say breakfast?" She rushed after him, but as soon as she cut the corner in the hallway the pillow she had thrown at him came flying for her face. 

"I'll have Leviathan know about this act of domestic violence!" Beelzebub yelled, running after the giggling Archangel.

Down in the kitchen, she came to an abrupt halt. The counter separating the kitchen and living room was laid with plate, cutlery, butter, several types of marmalade and jam, and a basket with fresh rolls smelling so delicious. 

"Coffee will be ready in a minute or two." 

"Uhm," Beelzebub began but didn't know what to say. 

"I saw you were sleeping when I got here for my morning jog, so I took a small detour to get you a few things." The angel said with a soft smile and pointed at grocery bags sitting in front of the fridge.

"I don't know how to thank you." Beelzebub admitted, staring at the casually dressed angel.

Gabriel shrugged, smiled and gave her another kiss, this time on her cheek. "You're welcome." He said and began sorting the groceries into their respective places. At least places he thought were the correct ones.

Beelzebub watched him for a while as she buttered her rolls and added generous amounts of blackberry marmalade. She was not quite sure what to make of this… lovely morning. Would it be like this regularly once the pandemic was over and both of them would have more free time on their hands? 

She was listed out of her train of thoughts by meowing.

"A cat?" she asked, looking at the grey tabby sitting in front of the glass door, tail swinging left and right.

"Not just any cat, Bee," Gabriel said and bowed towards the tabby for a grant introduction, "may I introduce you to Pascal the Rascal."

Beelzebub snorted. "You really have to verbally bend over to make that rhyme."

"Some things are worth bending over for." Gabriel retorted with a smirk.

"Are they now?" Fucking bend me over the kitchen counter and rail me, Beelzebub thought to herself.

Gabriel took a small can out of one of the shopping bags. "Hey buddy, I got you breakfast, too." The angel opened the glass door and opened what smelled like tuna to set it down in front of the feline intruder.

"You can't just feed him," the demon interjected, "he'll continue to come back instead of going home."

"Like you?" Gabriel nodded towards the half-eaten roll in Beelzebub's hand. 

"That's different." The Prince said, unable to hide her blush. 

"It's not, and you know it." Once against he had the audacity to wink at her. It was such a cheesy and cocky act...

… and she wanted to kiss him stupid because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached Soft Bureaucracy.
> 
> Up next: December - Business
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	23. December - Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to talk to the manager!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done! Last business update! Woop, woop!
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ DECEMBER - BUSINESS ◆◆◆◆◆◈

  


**8th of December 2020:**

Margaret Keenan, who turns 91 this month, has become the first person in the world to be given the Pfizer Covid-19 jab as part of a mass vaccination programme.

"They have vaccines." Beelzebub stated, a huge weight audibly being lifted off her shoulder. "Vaccines, plural. They started administering them, and they work."

The attendants of the meeting had similar reactions. Gabriel slouched in his chair, letting all muscles unwind for a second. Michael nodded victoriously and took some quick notes in her golden moleskin. The three of Erik fell into each other's arms, sobbing happily. 

“This is _not_ over.” The demon Prince reminded them, earning a cacophony of groans. "No slacking!" She clapped her hands loudly. "Having a vaccine available and enough humans making good use of it are two very different animals."

"Of course, my Lord." One Erik sniffed.

"We still need to find Pestilence." The second Erik said and handed the first a black handkerchief. 

"And I do have a lead!" The third announced, eyes glued to his phone. "My Lord, she's in South England!" The two other of him looked at the screen as well, as if six eyes saw more than two. 

"Micheal, can you try to keep Sandalphon out of this? He will _not_ turn all of the British Islands into fucking salt."

Michael smiled at him and put her pen down. "No notes for the archive. I'll wait for Erik's official report."

"Yes, ma'am." One Erik replied, sitting up straight. 

"I'll deliver it personally, as usual, ma'am." The second Erk added in a disciplined tone previously unknown to his actual superior Beelzebub. 

The third was too busy _blushing_ to talk. 

Gabriel raised his brows at his fellow Archangel, but she only batted her eyelashes at him, innocently. 

"Anyway," the demon Prince began, "we need you to spread the word that vaccinations are a good idea. No microchips, no nanobots, no shadow government experiments. It's a vaccine, it does its job if enough people get their shit together and sign up for it humans, and consequently, all of us can go back to normal."

"Uhm, Lord Beelzebub?" The third Erik muttered, face drained of all colour all of a sudden. "One of me is calling, he has Pestilence on the phone, asking to talk to you and Gabriel."

"Put her on speaker." Gabriel demanded.

The demon set his phone up on the table, clicked on speaker, and quickly retreated a few steps, hiding behind his two other bodies. 

"Is this upper management of Heaven and Hell?" Pestilence asked in the most petulant voice. 

"Messenger of the Lord and the Left Hand of Satan, at your service." Gabriel singsonged. 

"Good." The Horseman clicked her tongue. "As you can probably tell, I'm not happy. You two keep sending this goat-haired little demon after me, stalking and talking and asking questions and I had enough." She rambled aggressively, "I'm not stopping my, dare I say, well-deserved pandemic because of him, or you two self-important meddlers, but because I personally decided that one year is enough. This is getting boring. One does all the work to come up with a new virus, et voila, those busy little pests develop a vaccine within _months_. It even works for the mutations! How is a Horseman of Disease supposed to cull them, these days? This is stupid. Fuck this. Fuck you. I'm out."

The line went dead. 

"Uhm," Gabriel blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened. He was at a loss and turned to Beelzebub, "Did she just pull a Karen on us?" 

"I think," Beelzebub said with a frown, "we celestials need to learn to have faith in humanity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was posted early since I have to write tomorrows update today. Oh boy. 
> 
> Up next: December - Leisure, the last part. 
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	24. December - Leisure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Happy End of 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the super late last chapter, but my carpal tunnel flared up so hard my entire arm was in constant, plusating pain. I had to take a break or risk not being able to safly hold my baby girl. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, now enjoy!

  


### 

◆◆◆◆◆◆ DECEMBER - LEISURE ◆◆◆◆◆◆

  


**23rd of December 2020:**

Gabriel and Beelzebub return to their house to relax over the holidays.

Gabriel arrived at the house almost simultaneously with Beelzebub. The demon had a few seconds on him, allowing her to watch how his lightning fritzed the white and purple fairy lights decorating his balcony for the fifth time since he had hung them up in the spirit of the season. 

Beelzebub's red lights lining her pentagram were safe and sound, glowing merrily. 

"Hell versus Heaven 5:0!" she called out to the angel.

"Fuck you!" He called back down from his office, only half-heartedly trying to hide a smile. 

Both went on to enter the house, changed into more casual clothes, black blouse and black pinstripe cotton trousers for Beelzebub and a grey tracksuit for Gabriel. As if it were routine already, met in the living room. 

When Beelzebub dropped herself into her favourite armchair and propped her feet on the coffee table to snack on Christmas cookies she discovered something new. "A succulent?" She asked, bending her head backwards over the armrest to look at the angel doing stretches. They hadn't acquired any houseplants so far. 

"Fantastic little plant for busy people who sometimes are away for weeks." Gabriel answered.

The demon wrinkled her nose. "You sound like a salesperson."

"That was a direct quote from the salesperson I got it from." The angel laughed. "Do you want to know why I got it?"

"No, but you'll tell me anyway." The demon said with a playful grin, watching Gabriel reach for his toes with such ease.

As per usual, Gabriel ignored the jab and just continued talking." These kinds of succulents look like hardened dark red and black roses," he said and walked up to the coffee table, pointing at the dark little plant in a Santa boot pot on its centre while looking straight into Beelzebub's eyes, "They can survive any climate, they never wither, absolutely indestructible and beautiful." The last part didn't sound like he was talking about the plant _at all_. "And they are called Sempervivum Gabrielle." He quickly added with a smug face.

Beelzebub rolled her eyes at him. "Of course they are."

"Well, I had to put a little bit of me into you." 

Beelzebub squinted her eyes at him. "You already used that line." He did, back in September when she was digging up the flower beds.

"Maybe it's to do with the association of putting seed into dark and moist places." The angel said, eyes low and lascivious.

Beelzebub felt a hot rush in her cheeks. "Does God know you talk like that?"

"She created this mouth for all sorts of things, Bee."

That's it. That was the last straw. His innuendos and flirtatious remarks this year were getting so damn blatant that Beelzebub now, at the end of a very stressful 2020, snapped. 

She jumped to her feet, grabbed the Archangel by the front of his sweatshirt, swung him around and pushed him down onto the sofa where she instantly straddled him.

"Last chance to stop me and tell me I've been reading your signals wrong." She told him, eyes flicking between his lips and his excited eyes.

She felt his hands cup her backside and squeeze tentatively. The demon didn't move, didn't even flinch, but gasped almost unnoticeable. Gabriel moved his hands upwards, leaving one in the dip of her back, the other sliding all the up to her neck. Gently, he pulled her down, waiting for Beelzebub to ease into it.

And she did, letting herself be guided, until she lay on his chest and the Archangel kissed her, slow but hungry. He licked into her mouth, feeling her shudder, and as he tried to pull away, she chased his lips and deepened the kiss even further.

For a moment Gabriel managed to free his mouth to utter words he knew to be the truth for at least several months now, even if a tiny voice in the o of his mind told him that he knew it since before time was a thing yet. "I love you." 

Beelzebub jolted back into s sitting position. "You can't just say that."

"Of course I can," He said with an incredulous laugh, "it's an important message."

The demon's body stiffened, she shook her head. "You're _insane_."

Gabriel shrugged underneath her, unfazed by her attempts to deflecting his declaration. Better to double down. "I'm in love." He said and caressed her thighs. 

"Same difference, you're a fool." Her eyes were nervously scanning his face, trying to find the fine print, the trap, the loophole, the butt of the joke. 

"I really am a love fool, for you." He took her left hand and pulled it close enough to pepper it with small kisses. 

"Will you stop the smooth-talking?" There _must_ be a catch. As much as she wanted this, demon's weren't meant to be loved. 

He smirked up at her. "You'll have to make me." He said and licked into a dip between her fingers.

◍⊱ - - - - ⊰◍

"I didn't think it'd feel this good." Beelzebub moaned and gripped the black bedsheets beside Gabriel's head. Inch by inch, she slid down onto the angel's saliva-slick length, slightly pulling back to then push further down. The angel was _big_ , any bigger and he probably wouldn't fit anymore. He was perfectly filling the Prince of Gluttony.

"Thank you." Gabriel husked, doing his best to hold still. 

"I'm not praising you, just your cock." Beelzebub felt him twitch inside her, making her gasp. "You're still annoying as fuck."

He put his hands on her hips to steady the heavily breathing demon. Judging by her twitches, she still hadn't come fully down from the four orgasms he had coaxed out of her with his tongue, one down in the living room, one on the stairs, two more when they finally reached the comfort of the bed. "Well, I _am_ fucking you, Bee."

"And you better keep doing that, hnng." She clung to his shoulders as she sat flush on him, feeling him as deep as possible. 

Gabriel stroked her hip bones with the pads of his thumbs. "You're so beautiful like this."

"Shut up." The demon moaned, desperately trying to fall into a rhythm, but her blissful spasms wouldn't let her. 

The angel showed mercy and rolled them over, pushing several pillows out of the way. "You can't deny an angel telling the truth." He bent down to kiss her and got locked there by the arms slung around his neck and shoulders to keep him in place. One hand pushed into his hair and grabbed on tightly, making him gasp, and his hips stutter. 

Both would lose count of how many times they made the other come that night. This wasn't a competition, after all.

◍⊱ - - - - ⊰◍

On the late morning of Christmas Eve, Beelzebub woke up in her bed, naked, sticky, sore and feeling more sated than she ever had. She stretched languidly, pushing her back off the damp sheets underneath her body. Suddenly, her hand bumped into something. She opened her eyes to find Gabriel sitting beside her, leaning against the headboard and typing away on his tablet. All limbs dropped back down onto the mattress.

"You're still here?" The demon asked, looking up at Gabriel, who was wearing a silver pyjama. 

"Of course." He responded, smiled, but kept on typing. 

There were so many questions rushing Beelzebub's mind, so many thoughts and speculations, but she settled for a simple "Why?"

His fingers stopped. He set the tablet away, shuffled down the bed to lie on his side, facing Beelzebub. 

"So I can ask you what to bring from the bakery for your breakfast on my way back from my morning jog." He explained, casually, while reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers together. "They are still open for a few hours."

"But why are you here? In this house, with me?"

He smiled at her, stroking her palm with his thumb. "Somehow knowing that you have my back instead of stabbing it, thanks to the lack of world-ending war, makes me happy."

Beelzebub could do nothing but stare at his eyes, how they looked at her, open, and with honest affection shining in those purple pools. She bit her lip, doing her best to comprehend what her life has become. 

Gabriel used his free hand to poke at her frown. "Come on, Bee, I've told you." He said, pushing strands of black hair out of her eyes. "You're beautiful and smart and have exceptionally good taste that aesthetically accentuates my own by contrast. I firmly believe we can manage to live together, be together."

"You actually mean it." Beelzebub stated. It was not a question, not even an assumption. 

The angel blinked at her, surprised at the audible weight that the words of her realisation carried. "Bee?"

"This." She squeezed his hand with a little too much force. "All this. You meant every word."

"And that I love you." He added, feeling the need to emphasise it. 

Beelzebub closed her eyes and sighed, slightly curling up. "But love isn't meant for demons."

"Nonsense." The angel laughed and kissed her forehead. "Come here." He pulled her against his broad chest, hugging her. "This is, in some way, a new world. We can have this. There is not a single word in the archive about demons not being allowed to be loved. God never said that, why would She? Love is love, it has no limits, it’s _ineffable_."

"Don't ever say that word ever again." Beelzebub groaned.

"I'll go out for a jog, and you can stay here, in bed, and relax." Gabriel suggested and pulled away. "I'll bring you a snack, vanilla cream-filled croissants and another bag of Christmas cookies. Sound good?"

"Sounds delicious." She admitted and let herself be kissed.

Gabriel got up, ventured into his dressing room to change into his running gear, kissed her another time when he passed the bed on his way out, leaving Beelzebub to put order to her own tumbling thoughts.

The dumb big gorgeous asshole of an angel loved her. Literally _honest to God_ loved her. Beelzebub's heart was hammering in her chest and she felt a rush of adrenaline pulsing in her corporation's veins. 

Before she could think twice about it, she was up on her feet, swung the balcony doors open and watched for the angel exiting the house. She had to tell him, now, naked and raw as she felt. 

"Gabriel!" She shouted, making him turn on his running shoe heels. "I love you, too."

"Best Christmas gift ever!" Gabriel called out to her and blew the demon a kiss. 

Little did Beelzebub know that, while she slept, the angel had set up a tree in the living room, decorated in all black and white bulbs and stars and copious amounts of silver tinsel. He had laid out all gifts under it as well. Later, she'd roll her eyes at Gabriel, then open them one by one, being fed cookies by the angel's hand in between. 

There was an ouija board doormat by Dagon, golden cutlery by Micheal and a plethora of little knick-knacks gathered from all over the world by Erik, as a thank you for giving him a chance and elevating him from being a disposable demon to someone with a name even the Princes now remembered. 

Even in a year like 2020 good things can happen, if you let them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, a happy end to the year 2020. Thank everyone for leaving comments, hitting kudos, spreading the bureaucratic word. This had been a ton of fun and I'm so very happy to be writing again. I'll be slowly picking up writing smut again and, of course, The Grey Fledling will receive updates in 2021. There'll also most likely be a Valentines fic again. 
> 
> Keep your eyes peeled, I'll be back. 
> 
> Lots of love,   
> Ira

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: January - Leisure, in which one suggests the other something quite ludicrous. Things will escalate from there. 
> 
> See you tomorrow ♥
> 
> PS: Yes, due to technical difficulties this was published twice.


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